


Colorblind

by CurbItKirby



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Awkward People, Body Horror, Body Worship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Physical Mutations, Romance, Second hand embarassment, Time Skips, mutants in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 100,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5964679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurbItKirby/pseuds/CurbItKirby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vaguely, she was aware that Sean was staring at her. That was fine. People stared at her all the time. A side effect of having a physical mutation. What put her on edge was the lack of disgust or fear. Sean/OFC Set during First Class.<br/>Originally posted on FF.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fern and Josie

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to MakaOraLovesDestiel for telling me to post here.

Josephine had always wanted a daughter, but she never expected to have one. Her husband had died during the Second World War and she'd never remarried. Quite simply, she couldn't imagine her life with another man. Victor had been her one true love. At fifty four she knew she would never have a child of her own, so she reluctantly began the adoption process. Of course, a woman her age was deemed unfit to raise any of the 'normal' children.

So they decided to pawn the freak off to the old hag from the mountains.

Josephine was thrilled with the girl. The child, although sickly and weak, was the embodiment of everything she had ever wanted in a daughter; curious and rambunctious, or at least her file indicated such. So what if the girl had a… skin condition. That could be easily overlooked.

"What's her name?" The woman asked as she crouched down on one knee to get a closer look of the runt. They were only five feet apart and the child seemed to be doing everything in her power to keep that distance between them.

The girl's large, doe-like eyes were blue, with no white to be seen in the bright pools. They were a touch unsettling, more because of the way they were watching Josephine than their inhumane color. Glaring at the Southern woman, she didn't move from her corner. Instead, kept her back to the wall and her bony knees pressed tightly to her chest. Her lanky arms kept them there, her posture tense and completely still as she watched the women. Her grey skin seemed to flicker, dancing between an ash and dark grey. It was the latter that stuck to her scaly skin, a stark contrast to the pale pink wall behind her

The social worker flipped open the case file. After searching the page a moment, she blushed. "It's Fern." The social worker, who was perhaps only ten years younger than Josephine herself, cleared her throat and moved to stand next to her. She never took her eyes off the girl as she spoke to the older woman, "You realize this is a delicate case, don't you Mrs. Ailey?"

"I ain't blind, Kelly, just old." Josephine held her hand out to the child again, this time motioning for the girl to come closer. "Come 'ere."

The child didn't move. Her eyes fell to the woman's hand, to her gnarled knuckles and calloused palm and she flinched. Instead of speaking, Fern turned to press her cheek against the wall.

Mrs. Kelly sighed and rubbed her forehead with perfectly manicured fingers. "I knew this was a bad idea, she really has been nothing but trouble since she was-"

"Hey, now give the girl a chance." Josephine stood, wiped her sweating palms on her blue jeans, and slowly moved closer to the child.

With nowhere left to go, Fern's massive blue eyes seemed to narrow at the woman.

"Come on, Fern, come 'ere."

She shook her head defiantly. A pout crossed her features, causing the dark zigzag-like markings on her scaly skin to ripple.

Josephine would have none of it. "Now, Fern. You wanna get outta here, don'cha?"

A spark of interest lit up the girl's features. Fern's glare lost its edge and she tilted her head. Her skin mellowed itself and returned to a lighter shade of grey than it had been before the woman came over. It was then Josephine realized the girl's head was not shaved, as she originally thought, but rather the short black strands were pulled back in a tight ponytail. The elderly woman offered her hand. The child stared at it and raised her own in reply. She jerked back violently when Kelly's voice cut in.

Patronizing and firm, the social worker sighed as she stepped closer to the pair. "Now, Fern-"

"Hush up, Kelly, I got this," Mrs. Ailey snapped over her shoulder, but her own blue eyes never left the mutant in front of her. She kept her features firm, but not angry. Her gaze never left the girl in front of her. "I ain't gonna hurt ya, baby. Come on, now. It's time to go home."

"Actually you can't take her until-"

"Please," Josephine scoffed at the other woman as the child took her hand. It was small in her own, and quivering just a tad. They stood. The Southerner towered over the child, with her lithe five foot nine inch form, and she gently pulled the child to her side. There was no resistance, although Fern did tense terribly as she was pressed to Josephine's leg. The eccentric woman waved her hand, indicating to the room around them. "You honestly expect me to leave her here?"

Mrs. Kelly's jaw dropped and her cheeks colored. "Excuse me?" She asked indignantly. "We do our best to keep these children-"

"In a cage? Look at this place!" Josephine's voice rose a tad and her gaze sharpened as Fern's grip tightened on her hand. "There're bars on the windows!"

"She sneaks out at night!" Kelly snapped. Her pale features darkened and she shook her head. Her manicured fingers tightened on Fern's file, crumpling the thin papers as she clenched her jaw. Her words stilted and sharp, she forced a smile at the blonde, "Fine. If we start the paperwork now you can be gone before nightfall."

Mrs. Ailey kept a firm hold of Fern's hand as she, head high and back straight, guided her out of the room. Mrs. Kelly walked ahead of them. Josephine squeezed the shaking, frail hand with gentle but calloused fingers and smiled down at her new ward.

"I'm Josephine Ailey. You can call me Josie, if you like. Or Mrs. Ailey." Her sun kissed cheeks flushed softly. "Or maybe ma, if you wanted."

Fern tilted her head. Ma? A fine membrane flicked over her eyes from under her eyelids and not for the first time, she was thankful she didn't have tear ducts. Instead, she shrugged and dropped her gaze to the floor. "Hm."

"How old are you? Five? Six?"

"Nine," The little one corrected passively. She was used to this. Fern knew she was scrawny; she'd been told hundreds of times, for as long as she could remember. She looked up at the woman suspiciously. "How old are you?"

Josephine winked at her. "Older than nine." A playful smile lit up her blue eyes and she ushered the little girl in ahead of her. "After you, kiddo."

-Six Months Later-

The first thing Josephine learned about raising a mutant child, or at least, this particular mutant child, was that Fern, when nervous, climbed the walls.

"Fern, you get down from there this instant, young lady!"

The girl shook her head and bared her teeth, skittering across the ceiling, away from her foster mother. "No."

"Yes." Josie held up the girl's coat. "Ya promised ya'd go without a fight!"

Fern frowned, her black hair swaying in midair as she shook her head violently. "I changed my mind!"

"Fern! Fern, you get down from there!" Josephine put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. "I'll give ya to the count'a three before I get the broom."

"Aw, Ma-"

"One."

"I hate the broom!"

"Two."

"Fine! But if he tries to suck my blood we're leavin'!" Fern dropped gracefully to the ground. Her long arms crossed as she glared at her caregiver. "An' don't tell me he won't."

Josephine draped the girl's coat over her thin shoulders. "Draw your blood sweetheart, not suck it. He's not a vampire."

"Says you."

"What was that?"

"Nothin'." With a defeated sigh, Fern's skin began to change; the shade of it twisting from a dark to light grey in an intricate fashion. When she noticed, she slid the jacket on and zipped it until it was high on her throat, right up to her chin. She sniffed with irritation, glancing at the blonde woman curiously. Josephine seemed completely at ease, something that only furthered the child's anxiety. Sharp teeth bit the inside of her cheeks as she stuck her hands in her pockets.

When Josephine noticed the girl's tense posture, she asked her what was wrong.

Blue orbs went to blue eyes and the child shifted nervously. "They're… they're not gonna like…"

"Like what, darlin'?" Her new mother asked with a raised brow as she brushed some of the mutant's black hair from her anxious features.

"Like experiment on me, are they?"

Josephine dropped to one knee in front of the girl. Hands going to the child's narrow shoulders, she pursed her lips a moment before asking, "How long have we known each other?"

"Six months." Fern grumbled.

"And have I given you any reason to think I was gonna let 'em experiment on ya?"

The girl played with her hands. Her gaze focused on her black fingernails and their sharp points, she admitted, "No."

Josie tucked a piece of the girl's loose hair behind her ear. "Then trust me."

The ride was long, and most of it was filled with the static of radio as tiny hands continually switched over the channels. Knowing it was a nervous habit, Mrs. Ailey didn't say anything of it.

"Ma?"

"Yeah?"

"What is the specialist gonna do?"

"Well, he's gonna check you over, make sure you're healthy."

Fern's lips tightened. She didn't like the sound of that. With a swallow, she asked, "Is that all?"

"He's gonna tell us 'bout your mutation."

The child froze. For a few seconds, she was completely still, but her composure wasn't to last. The child began thrashing in her seat. Her voice became screeching and frightened as she frantically pulled at her seatbelt, "I knew it! Yer gonna let 'em poke and prod me 'til he gets what he wants and then I'm gonna-" With a growl, the seat belt was torn from its socket. "No!"

The woman quickly pulled to the side of the road and grabbed the seat belt.

The girl froze at the Josie's hands over her own before she began to thrash even harder.

"No!" she repeated, kicking and scratching at the woman. "No, no, no, no!"

"Fern! Fern, stop!" Josephine grabbed the child's arms and forced them down.

"No!"

"Fern, I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you!"

Her arms continued to flail, weak hands slapping and pushing at the woman as Fern screamed, "No! That's what they always say! No, no, no!" Fern bared her teeth threateningly, and for a moment, the woman was frightened. Those teeth were sharp… dangerous. "You can't make me!"

"Fern Ailey, you stop this, this instant, young lady." Josie's hands clamped down on her shoulders and she gave the girl a hard, much needed shake. "Now you know I ain't gonna let anything happen to ya, but you need to calm down and show me some respect."

"No." Fern had calmed. But her features were still hurt and scared. Her hands twisted the seat belt, tugging at it as she looked out the window "You can't make me go."

The woman pushed her daughter's black hair away from her face. Its colors were changing again. Shifting from light to dark to ash grey and back again. It was almost hypnotic. Josie swallowed and stroked the little girl's scaled cheek. "I can and I will. It's for yer own good, child. If I think they're gonna hurt ya, I'll take ya outta there. Now sit tight. The faster we get there the faster this'll be done with."

Fern's bottom lip quivered, but she surrendered, falling back into her seat without a word.

The specialist, as it turned out, was an elderly gentleman named Joshua Casten. He was a short man, but seemed genuinely kind and very curious. A dermatologist, his expertise lied in skin, and Fern's was turning out to be rather remarkable. He inspected it carefully, from the odd ridges on her fingertips and toes to the various lines and raised skin that flitted across her jaw and throat, rising above her naturally scaled skin. Similarly, the outsides of her arms held several thick, calloused scales that didn't fit in with the rest of her skin. Casten had hummed curiously over them, but didn't dare draw blood from them. The child was far too on edge for that. He also swabbed the inside of her cheek with a cotton swab –much to the child's distaste- and checked her reflexes.

"She's a little on the small side," He told Josie, who nodded and listened carefully, her fingers fiddling with the thin gold chain around her neck as he went on, "but otherwise she seems perfectly healthy."

Frowning, Fern pulled her jacket back on. She looked between the two of them with annoyance. "That's it? We can go now?"

"Well, Miss Ailey…" Casten got down on his knee and smiled at her. Her expression remained stony. He was unsurprised. Josie had filled him in on her background and knew what to expect from her. A distrust of strangers was not uncommon among children like Fern. Meaning adopted children, not children with her particular ailment; in truth he had never seen anything quite like her before. "I'd like to check back in with you in a few months. Judging by the texture and tone of your pores, I'm thinking you just might be poisonous."

"Poisonous?" Josie repeated with a hint of worry.

At her mother's tone, Fern glanced over at the woman before looking back at Casten. With a hint of skepticism, she asked, "What, like poison oak?"

Casten shook his head with a good natured chuckle. "Not exactly. It's just a theory, nothing to worry about as you are quite young." He made eye contact with Josephine and the woman got the feeling it was something they should be very much concerned about, regardless of his nonchalant manner. "But it couldn't hurt to keep an eye on it."

So Josephine nodded and forced a smile to her lips for the sake of the child. "Of course. When would you like to see her again?"

"I think we should make this a biannual appointment," He told her, tucking his penlight into his lab coat. "In the meantime, some sunlight would do her some good. Any outdoor activity would, in fact." He raised his hand to the girl's face and gave her cheek a playful pinch. "Get some color on those cheeks!"

Fern bit him.

He gave out a shocked cry and jerked away. The rage in her stare caught him off guard and he looked down at his wounded finger. Blood flowed steadily from the wound and he grabbed some paper towels from this desk.

"Fern." Josephine said sternly.

"He pinched me." The child whined with a huff.

Her caregiver crossed her arms. "Fern."

The girl sighed. Rolling her eyes, she recited, "Sorry, I bit you Dr. Casten."

He chuckled nervously. "Not a problem, Miss Ailey." Casten swallowed and nodded to the mother as she ushered her child out of the room. "Until January."


	2. First Contact

Ten years past.

The fragile girl Josie had adopted, had grown into a young woman of tall stature and strong will. Cautious in nature, the younger Ailey rarely trailed too far from their secluded home. Most of the people she met were friendly, or at the very least tolerant, but the few that had been violent and hysterical had done a good job of making the Aileys a somewhat reclusive pair.

The elderly woman stepped out of the farm house. The morning light was bright, a sharp contrast to the fog over the lake where her daughter swam.

"Fern, sweetie!" Josie called as she waved to her, but went unnoticed. Under her breath, she muttered, "Shoot."

The elderly woman carefully made her way down the hillside toward the lake. The air was brisk and the wind forced her greying blonde curls to whip around her face. She brushed them from her cheeks with a huff before she pulled her knitted cardigan closer to her lanky frame. A large English Mastiff raced ahead of her, barking merrily. On sneakered feet, she followed the animal out to the dock.

"Fern!" She shouted, rocking onto her tiptoes in an attempt to see further out. Between the fog and dark water, Josie couldn't see much.

A head, barely visible, popped up a few yards away and looked her way as the dog began barking frantically.

"Ma?" Fern blinked, the membrane under her eyelids wiping lake water from them. She approached the dock quickly, her toned arms threading the water with ease. She squinted up at her mother as she brushed her bangs from her eyes. Her lean body rocked gently with the current, bobbing her up and down as she asked, "What's up?"

"You have a phone call." Josephine watched her daughter lift herself out of the deep, frigid lake.

Jet black hair was matted around her face, the color of the scaled skin under it shifting and changing intrinsically with the sudden change in temperature. The younger Ailey rung out the short dark strands and huffed as Bruno greeted her with a sniff at her belly.

Josephine handed the younger woman a towel. "They said it's to do with the government."

"What?" Fern dried her arms off with a crease in her brow.

The dog jumped on her shoulders. She was almost knocked off balance by his sheer size, but quickly shifted her center of gravity to accommodate the extra weight. Bruno didn't notice, too busy licking at her scaled cheeks and sniffing her affectionately to notice the way she angled her hips and arched her back to brace him. After a moment the Mastiff dropped down and turned to head back toward the house. The women did the same.

"What'd they want me for?"

Mrs. Ailey shrugged. She carefully pulled the towel tighter over Fern's shoulders. "I don't know. They said they knew Casten."

"Why doesn't it surprise me he broke patient confidentiality?" Fern asked with a hint of bitterness. While her like of the man had grown since she was a child, there was still a good amount of distrust the woman had for anyone deemed doctor. Anyone in a white coat and boasting of a doctorate was deemed suspicious in her eyes and were to be regarded the same way one would a strange animal- with cautious respect and plenty of distance.

The house on the top of the hill wasn't a large one, but plenty big enough for the two women and their freakishly large dog. With two stories and four bedrooms, Josie and her late husband had bought it in the mid-thirties hoping to fill it with children, but sadly never got the chance. Josie didn't mind though; between Fern and the Mastiff, it was filled with all the raucous the elderly lady could handle. They slipped inside and the young woman made a beeline for the kitchen.

Fern picked up the phone where it lay on the kitchen counter. With a hint of suspicion in her voice, she answered with a curt, "Hello?"

"Hello," A composed voice greeted her warmly. "Is this Miss Fern Ailey?"

"Speaking," She confirmed to the masculine English accent on the other end of the line. An amused smile twitched at her lips. She had never heard an accent that wasn't southern before. At least, not in person, if over the phone could be counted as such. Jumping up on the counter with ease, she listened as she rocked on her toes; her abrasive skin giving her enough traction to keep her in place on just about any surface, including their marble counter tops.

Much to her mother's displeasure.

"Hello. My name is Charles Xavier, I'm running a program for the, uh, gifted, shall we say, in Virginia and I was wondering if you would be interested in attending?"

She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder with a hum. The young woman toweled off her dark grey skin. It continued to swirl under the kitchen's bright lights. The Mastiff, Bruno, jumped up on her shoulders again, but she simply grunted and adjusted her center of gravity with a well-practiced ease. "Gifted?"

"That's right." The cool voice replied with a hint of pride.

"You realize I was home schooled and my records aren't on file." She frowned and looked dubiously at her mother. She dropped the towel in her lap as her dog eyed the phone with interest. Bruno sniffed at the receiver, but didn't make a sound. Fern cocked a near invisible brow at Josephine and continued to speak into the receiver with a sneer tugging at her lips, "I thought you were a friend of Dr. Casten's."

The man cleared his throat. Clearly he hadn't expected such hostility. "I am."

"And he's who told you about me? About what exactly qualifies me as gifted?"

Josephine rolled her eyes at her daughter's accusing tone. Honestly. The girl wore distrust like a second skin. "Fern. Play nice." Her strong fingers wrapped around the dog's collar and pulled his massive form from her daughter's lithe one. "Those limeys are judgmental fucks."

"We are not," Xavier assured her, a hint of amused indignity in his voice. The young woman appreciated that. Brushing off the Southerner's casual racism, he carried on, "Perhaps it's best we have this conversation in person. To ease any… concerns, your mother has."

"In person?" Fern echoed. With a smirk, she answered, "Sure. Bring a camera."

The mutant dropped the phone back on the receiver and looked up to find her mother glaring at her. With an overly innocent bat of her eyes, she asked, "What?"

"That was rude."

The young woman scoffed and began to bounce anxiously in place on the balls of her feet. Her hands crossed over her chest to hold her shoulders as she shrugged. "So? You do the same thing whenever the paperboy calls."

"Yeah but the paperboy isn't offering me a job," Josie countered. "Now, dry off, you're soaking my counter."

"No need. I'm heading back out." With a smile that flashed her sharp canines and bicuspids, she hopped down and made her way to the back door, "If he calls back, tell him I'm off committing a Pagan sacrifice or giving fellatio to the homeless. You know…" She kicked the door open behind her and the dog rushed out of it. She motioned with her hands, a crooked grin flashing her sharp canines and bicuspids as the young woman teased, "Talk me up a bit."

"F-" Josephine sighed and rolled her neck as the girl disappeared from the doorway. The phone rang and she muttered, "Fantastic," before answering it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Ailey? It's Joey-"

The woman slammed the phone down on the receiver. She didn't have time for this shit.

In Virginia, Charles blinked. The phone still tight to his ear, he frowned as the dial tone greeted him.

"What?" His friend, Erik Lensherr, asked curiously from the window a few feet away. He had been peering on to the grounds for most of Charles' conversation, but now the shorter man had his complete attention. "Did she reject us?"

"I… don't know."

The German man smirked. Amusement lining his roguish features, he asked, "What do you mean you don't know?"

"Well…" Charles leaned back in his office chair. The receiver didn't leave his hand as he shook his head, clearly confused and perhaps a bit frazzled. "I offered her a place at the CIA, and she seemed curious, so I asked if she'd like to arrange a meeting in person. Then she laughed at me and hung up."

"She hung up on you?" Erik chuckled. He crossed his arms and leaned against the windowsill. "She's a teenager, what did you expect?"

The man continued to gape at the phone in shock. "I don't know; some casual respect?"

A knock on the door halted their conversation.

"How did it go?" Raven asked curiously as she poked her head inside the office.

"Not well, I'm afraid." Erik grinned, flashing every one of the teeth. "It seems Charles doesn't quite know how to handle today's youth."

"She just said to bring a camera and hung up on me." Xavier repeated with astonishment.

The woman chuckled. A hand rose to cover her smile, as she told him sympathetically, "Oh, Charles, I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "I don't understand it. Surely she realized we would have to meet in person?"

Erik shrugged. "Maybe she thinks we'll change our minds once we see her."

"But we already know of her physical mutation!"

"Did you mention that?" Raven asked, sliding on to one of the plush couches.

"Well, no," Xavier admitted. "Not in so many words. I couldn't exactly tell her I'd touched her mind with Cerebro, now could I?"

The other man squinted at him in suspicion. "And you didn't mention what being gifted exactly entails, did you?"

Charles' shoulders slumped with defeat. "No. I didn't."

"Then perhaps it is best we leave now. Catch her off guard and show that we don't mean any harm." Erik offered. His lean form moved quickly across the office to a coat rack. He took both Charles' jacket and his own from it. Tossing it to the man, he smirked. "Come on." His eyes slid over to the blonde. "Raven, are you coming?"

"Really?" She asked him with an excited smile.

The blond man nodded. "Of course. Show her that's she's not the only one with a physical mutation."

Shrugging his jacket on, Xavier agreed, "Capital idea."

The young woman beamed at him and ushered the men out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Linda Ku for betaing this!


	3. In Disguise

-Just outside Boone Lake, Tennessee-

"This is ridiculous." Fern squirmed, restless and a bit embarrassed as she insisted, "It's fine."

Josephine rolled her eyes at her daughter's dismissive words. Her long, weathered fingers continued to sift through the kitchen's junk drawer. She was in search of Band-Aids. For not the first time, her daughter had fallen off the pier in the middle of the night. While the girl's scaled skin was tough, it was really no match for a pier full of jagged rocks. Thus the back of her right leg was covered in a series of scratches. None of them were terribly deep, thankfully, but her mother knew they stung none the less.

"That's what ya get for trying to sneak off." Josie told her with a hint of condescension.

Fern looked indignant. She was sitting on the counter again. Her weight rested on the balls of her feet while her toes clung to the marble edge. One of her elbow rested on her knee and she had her cheek resting against the fist from the same arm. Pouting, she looked away from the older woman. "I was not sneaking off."

Watching as the colors rippled on the young woman's face, her mother was quick to quip, "A guilty dog barks the loudest, sugar."

"I was just gonna go for a swim. Clear my head." Fern huffed with a hint of frustration as she bounced on her toes. "I mean, it's not like I'll have the chance to do it again… seeing how you're shipping me off to some government warehouse!"

"It is not a government warehouse… at least I don't think it is," Josie added as an afterthought. The woman shrugged passively. She had grown used to her daughter's paranoia with the outside world and although she didn't like it, she certainly understood it. "Don't get ahead of yourself just yet, kid, you ain't been accepted yet."

Inhuman blue eyes seemed to narrow on her as Josie turned around with a hand full of bandages. Features grim, Fern warned her, "And I won't be."

Josephine cocked a brow. "And why not?"

"Look at me, ma. You think they want to hire… someone like me?" The young mutant scoffed and shook her head. She bit her lip and hopped off the counter. Her injured leg ached, but Fern ignored the throb of heat up her calf. Rubbing the back of her neck, she continued in a low voice, "For any kind of normal job anyway."

"What?" The elderly woman raked her gaze up and down the girl's willowy frame. "What's wrong with ya?"

Fern shrugged with a weak smirk on her lips. Her features faded to reflect her mood, turning a gloomy shade of stone grey. With a hint of bitter amusement, she muttered, "Everything."

"Now, Fern Ailey, I won't have any of that nonsense." Josephine grabbed her daughter's chin and tried to force her to look up at her. The girl didn't budge. With a sigh, the woman brushed a few of the wet strands of black hair from Fern's grey skin. As her hands fell to the mutant's bare shoulders, her mother continued firmly, "You have just as much a right to get any job you want."

Fern kept her face stubbornly down. The membrane over her eyes flickered as she let out a doubtful hum.

"If they know Casten, they know about your condition," The blonde reminded her with a smug smile.

Blinking, Fern glanced up at that thought. She hadn't considered that. Only that they knew she was a freak- not that, perhaps, they wouldn't mind. A small smirk appeared in the corner of her scale free lips, but she said nothing. Her mother considered it a victory.

With calloused fingers and a gentle touch, Josie tucked a strand of her daughter's wet hair behind her ear. Her thumb lingered on her cheek a moment, stroking the scaled skin with a tenderness that Fern was still adjusting to after ten years. "Why don't you go out for a swim? You might be healed up by the time it's over."

The girl nodded, kissed her mother on the cheek and ventured out the back door. Bruno followed after, keeping quiet in the dark. The only sound in the air was the heavy thumps of his paws hitting the ground.

The air was cold that morning when Charles pulled into a diner just inside Gillham. After the eight hour drive, the mutants needed a break. Raven groaned as she pulled herself from the backseat, and Erik let out a similar grunt as he stretched his long legs out. The Aileys were the first of several mutants they intended on meeting. Angel had been the first mutant located and brought to the CIA by convenience- she had been the closest to them, dancing in a club in Langley. The men planned on working their way from Tennessee back to Virginia over the course of the day, picking up mutants along the way.

"How much further?" The young woman groaned as they entered the run down establishment. The walls were painted a pale blue with campy décor along them. The music playing in the background was a record by Elvis Presley that was skipping obnoxiously.

In- In- In Disguise!

"Thirty minutes at the most," Charles told her with a smile. "It's kind of exciting, isn't it? Another…" He dropped his voice as his gaze flickered around the empty restaurant, "Another mutant? And several more between here and Virginia?"

"Are you sure I can't come?" Raven asked with a frown. "What if you need me?"

The professor clapped her on the shoulder and shook it affectionately. "I'm sure we'll be fine. Besides, if what I've seen of her relationship with Casten is accurate, she may need some help adjusting to the group. Especially Hank."

"Assuming they agree to come at all, of course," Erik added. When Charles frowned at his cynicism, he perked his brows up innocently. "What?"

The trio quieted as a waitress came out from the back. She was in her early forties with dark brown hair, a bit on the heavy side and quite frankly rather surprised to see them. They weren't any of the locals she knew. Tourists were rare this time of season… A feeling of dread crept up her spine at the sight of them. They didn't look like tourists. All three of them were too finely dressed to be visiting such a small town. Both of the men were nicely dressed, with the short in a mismatched three piece suit and the taller sporting a brown leather jacket and slacks. The young woman was in a black trench style jacket that hit her mid-thigh and flashed black nylons under a finely pressed skirt. The waitress forced a smile and made her way over to them.

"Howdy. You folks need a table?" She swallowed, looking between them. "Maybe I get'cha a coffee to start you off with?"

Erik attempted to smile disarmingly at her. "Actually, we're just looking for directions."

The woman nodded. A sense of relief flooded her at the idea of them leaving. "Oh?"

"Yes. We're looking for the Aileys' residence?" Charles asked her. "I believe they live in town?"

The waitress's features grew tense. She crossed her arms over her bountiful bust and narrowed her eyes at them with suspicion. "What'd ya want the Aileys' for?"

Charles and Erik shared a look. Raven took this as a cue to move forward. With a cautious, and what she hoped was disarming, smile, she explained, "We're here to see Josephine's daughter, Fern."

"Look, whatever you heard is wrong." The woman glared at the girl in front of her. A hint of fear glazed her brown eyes, but her voice stayed strong and angry. "Now Fern might be a little… different, but she ain't never hurt nobody."

"We never said she did." Erik tilted his head, eying her with a morbid sense of curiosity. "Why? Did someone say she had?"

The waitress bristled. "Nobody said nothin'. What'dya want with her?"

Charles stepped forward. A hand came to his friend's chest as he grinned at the woman. "We'd like to offer her a place at our institution. We're looking for people with certain…gifts, to help further our research."

The woman's features remained wary, although a bit of curiosity crept into her tone as she asked, "Why'd you want to do somethin' like that?"

Raven shifted. Her once tan skin shifted to a dark blue, ebbed with even darker navy scales. Her blonde hair turned to red and her blue eyes to a shocking electric yellow. "Because she's like us." She told the waitress, who was now gaping in wonder at her.

Slowly, a smile crossed the woman's face. "Oh thank god." A hand rose to clasp the small gold cross that hung on a thin chain around her neck. "I thought maybe… never mind. I'll go get you a map."

Erik watched with high brows as the plump woman retreated. "Well. That was… not the reaction I was expecting."

Raven smiled, transforming into the blonde she once was. Chipper and completely thrilled, she bounced slightly on her toes. "Me either."

"You really need to learn to give people the benefit of the doubt, Erik." Charles smirked as the waitress returned carrying a map.

In the boondocks of Lake Boone, Fern was still swimming, while Josephine watched from the docks. The woman was growing concerned for her daughter. Fern hadn't said much to her since the previous night's exchange. Just came in for lunch, ate her grilled cheese in silence and went right back to the water.

With a sigh, Josie kicked the frigid water with a sneakered foot. Bruno sniffed, but didn't move from his spot next to her. His big brown eyes followed her daughter as she swam past the dock, only a few feet away from them.

"Fern?"

The girl paused, but didn't look at her.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong or you gonna keep ignoring me?"

For a moment, the brunette said nothing. She kept her back turned to the elderly woman. Finally, Fern answered in a surprisingly hard voice, "You promised you wouldn't abandon me."

"I'm not," Josephine shot back with calm features. She'd learned long ago to mask her surprise at the things her child said. Fern's distrust of her even after all the years together stung, but she hid it well. "I just want you to be happy, baby."

"I am happy!" The mutant snapped over her shoulder. Her teeth were a shocking white against her dark grey lips. She pursed her them tightly and dipped down into the water, until only the bright irises of her eyes were visible. Turning, she locked them on her mother's feet as the cool lake water filled her nostrils, the burn familiar and comforting to her as she held her breath.

"You need to learn to be with people, Fern. It's not healthy for you to spend all your time with me."

Fern's eyes landed on her face. The thin membrane flicked across them, but Josie knew it had nothing to do with the water. Those flicks were the closest her daughter would come to crying.

She poked her head out of the lake. Hesitant, the mutant asked, "What if I can't, ma?"

"You have to learn to give people a chance."

"What if they treat me different? What if they think I'm a freak? What if they wanna experiment on me?" Fern sunk back down. The lake water filled her nostrils and once again the only part of her that was visible was her large blue eyes and the top of her head.

Josephine shrugged and ran a hand through her fluffed blonde hair. "Then fuck 'em. You were fine before 'em, you'll be fine after. And as for the experimentation thing… they'd have to go through me first."

An unseen smile pulled at the girl's lips. Bruno's nose twitched and he stood, sniffing the air.

"And you need to start spending time on land!" Her mother chided her, knowing she had won. "Fish'll start thinkin' you're one of 'em!"

Slowly the young woman swam up to the dock. She raised her head and flipped her dark hair from her face. Most of the black strands still clung to her scales, which glimmered in the bright sunlight iridescently. Squinting skeptically, Fern asked, "Promise?"

"If you don't like it, just come home. Plain and simple, baby." Josie reached out and pushed some of Fern's short, dark hair from her cheeks and eyes. Too busy with their quiet conversation, the women didn't notice the mutants on top of the hill until one of them ventured down.

"Um, excuse me? You wouldn't happen to be Mrs. Josephine Ailey would you?"

At the sound Charles Xavier's accent, Fern disappeared back into the water. Josie didn't notice, but Charles did, and his friendly smile dwindled slightly at the girl's frightened, panicked thoughts.

"Maybe." The woman stood from the docks. Her hand went to her dog's collar as he began to growl at the stranger. The other went into the back pocket of her jeans as she asked, "Who's askin'?"

His blue eyes fell to the dog a moment with concern. Clearing his throat, he offered his hand. When the dog's growls grew louder, he sheepishly dropped it. "Charles Xavier, we spoke on the phone?"

Josie smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling with warmth as she nodded. "Right." She looked down at the large animal. Tapping a finger on his snout, she scolded, "Quit it, B."

He whined and dropped down heavily on the docks.

Her attention returned to the young man. Little more than a boy in her eyes, but well dressed and seemingly well kept. He was a few inches shorter than her, with bright blue eyes and pale features.

"Well, Chuck, my daughter seems to have disappeared on us, so, how 'bout I make you…" She glanced behind him, one of her pale brows arching before she continued, "and your friends some tea. You limeys still like tea, right?"

"That would be lovely, thank you." He inclined his head with a gracious smile. His eyes flickered out to the open, still water. "Isn't it a bit chilly for her to be out there?"

"Nah, Fern's pretty adaptable when it comes to the weather." Josephine smirked with pride. "I've seen her drills holes in the ice to get out there."

The man's eyes widened with fascination. "Really? And she's never been sick?"

"Not once in the ten years I've known 'er."

He grinned at her. "Amazing. That would not only indicate a healing factor, but-"

"Don't talk shop with me, boy, I ain't too keen on listenin'." When she noticed the crestfallen look on his face, the elderly matron explained, "Science ain't really my bag, sugar."

"Oh. Well..." He rubbed the back of his neck, still able to hear the younger mutant's worried thoughts. "It's amazing she can do that."

"Yes it is," The woman agreed with a proud smile. Clapping a hand on his shoulder, she turned him toward the farm house on top of the hill. "Come on. You can fill me in while my daughter panics."

Charles smiled weakly. "I do hope she'll agree."

"I'm sure she will." Her blue eyes fell to the dog. Voice hard, she ordered, "Bruno. Guard."

The dog sat up to attention and began watching the water intently. The man cocked a brow, and Josie explained with a shrug, "Little girl, big lake. Figured the dog ought'a be a rescue one."

"Ah."

A wicked grin crossed the woman's weathered features. "Probably should'a warned ya, he don't like men much."

Charles smiled. "Perfectly understandable. How long has Fern been in your care, exactly, Mrs. Ailey?"

"Ten years. Eleven in December- and call me Josie." She ushered him back up the large hill where his companions waited for them at the top. She looked between them and nodded. "I'm Josie Ailey."

"Raven Darkholme." The younger woman offered her hand.

It was shook by a hand with strong, calloused fingers. "Nice to meet'cha. How 'bout you, young fellah? Got a name?"

Erik clasped her hand with a smirk. "Erik Lehnsherr."

"A Jew, huh?"

His light eyes narrowed defensively. "That's right."

"Well, shalom than, tiger. Easy now." She held her other hand up in a complacent gesture. "Didn't mean no offense."

"Hm." He pursed his lips as he regarded her.

She was somewhere in her late sixties and although the age showed in her face, she didn't look hard or inimical, as some women her age did.

Erik straightened up a touch when he realized she was studying him in a similar manner. "I'm sure you know why we're here, Mrs. Ailey."

"Josie. And yeah, I do, and frankly I got a couple questions." Her light eyes drifted to each of theirs, holding their gaze each a moment. "If that's okay with you folks."

A glint in the water drew Raven's attention away from them. Looking around the woman, she asked, "Is that your daughter?"

"It is." Josie nodded with a hint of suspicion. She hadn't expected the visitors, although if Casten trusted them she saw no reason not to.

The younger blonde turned to look the woman in the eye. "Do you mind if I speak to her? Privately, I mean?"

Josie swept her eyes up and down the young girl's form; she was a pretty little thing, with straw blonde hair and cherub like features. With a smirk and an indulgent nod, Josie told her, "Suppose it'd be fine. Bruno shouldn't give ya any trouble, so don't be shy."

Fern swam a few feet under the lake's surface. There was little sound down here, little to see besides seaweed and the odd sunfish, but it was home. The water was free of pollution and a hazy green to the girl's eyes. She wasn't sure how long she'd been down there, but judging by the slow burn in her throat, it was time to come up.

Her head had barely poked the water's calm surface when a feminine voice startled her.

"Hi."

She spun around in surprise, baring her teeth at the stranger. Raven stared at the girl. She had never seen a mutation like Fern's before. Her skin shifted and changed right before Raven's very eyes. It was so much…it wasn't like looking in a mirror, not quite, but, it was the closest Raven had come to seeing someone like her.

Fern glared at her. "What?" She snapped, baring sharp white teeth. "Never seen a freak before?"

"You're…" The young woman beamed, catching the girl off guard, "You just…" Her pale skin shifted to blue. "You're just like me."

Fern gaped up at her for a few seconds before quickly approaching the dock. She hopped on to it with an easy, well-practiced grace, and stood face to face with the only other person she had ever met with a physical mutation. The membrane flicked rapidly over her eyes as she stared at her. Swallowing, the grey skinned girl opened and closed her mouth a few times, but was completely stunned into silence.

"I'm Raven." The redhead offered her a blue hand.

"Fern." The taller replied breathlessly as she took it. "I- I've never..."

They shook hands before stepping back to simply regard one another.

In the bright sunlight, Fern's skin shimmered- stealing colors from the lake and the dock, and even mirroring some of Raven's own blue back at her. Most of her scales seemed to twist, alternating between light ash colors and an iron grey. It even caught some of the white of her bathing suit; although it wasn't as obvious. It was the darker of the scales that were reflective, catching the light and shining Raven's skin color back at her in a glimmer not unlike the way the sun reflected off the lake's surface.

Raven shook her head. "I've never met anyone with a mutation as extensive as mine either. It's…"

"Reassuring?" Fern offered her with a weak smirk, her eyes never leaving the scaled patterns along the other woman's cheeks.

Where her own scales intersected to completely cover her without overlap, Raven's skin seemed to be normal human skin(albeit blue). Scales that seemed to have an intricate design to them littered the smooth skin, carefully placed and Fern vaguely wondered their purpose. She supposed they were how Raven had been able to disguise herself- how she had been able to look so utterly normal.

The taller girl tilted her head, but her gaze continued to drift over Raven's face and neck. "Are you with Xavier?"

"Yes. We work with the CIA, or at least, we have been lately..." Raven blinked and shook her head as she continued with a flushed smile, "I mean, it's a place for mutants to come. Meet one another. Maybe even hone their abilities a bit."

Fern pursed her lips. "Any like us?"

"Not really, no." Raven admitted. "But they're still different like us. Freaks."

The other girl swallowed, the grey skin on her face darkening subtly. After a few seconds, she nodded. Reluctantly at first, but growing confident with each movement. "Okay. Let's go."

"Really?"

"Really. Let's go."


	4. Anyone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Linda Ku!

"Now, Charlie…" Josephine batted her lashes at the men with a hint of condescension. "Tell me all about this little project of yours."

Charles and Erik shared an amused look, as the elderly lady set a cup of tea in front of each of them. She moved back to the fridge, grabbed a beer for herself and then dropped into the chair across from them. Letting one foot come up to rest on the table (an action she would slap her daughter for, but Josie was doing her best to maintain an aloof, cocky front), she snapped the tab out of it with her wedding ring. She looked between the young men with an arched brow, expectant.

It was Erik who spoke first as his gaze fell to her mud covered cowboy boot. "Well, we're looking to gather mutants from all over the country. To help them with their abilities, of course."

"We've been working with the CIA to show them that we are not so much a threat as we are allies," Charles added when his friend failed to mention it.

Josie took a sip of her beer. Peering over the rim, she hummed with a hint of suspicion to be found in her aged features. "And my daughter would be safe?"

Erik pursed his lips. Leaning forward just a touch, he assured her, "No harm would come to Fern. At the first sign of danger, if there is any, we intend on sending them home."

"Them?" she echoed curiously. Sitting up, she pulled her boot from the table. "You've found more… special people already?"

Charles grinned with a child-like excitement that while endearing, didn't instill a lot of confidence in the older woman. His eagerness tended to make him look quite young. "We currently have two young people back at our base with rather astounding gifts and we're hoping to pick up several more on the way back to Virginia."

Her blonde brows rose. "Really?" A grin spread across her lips. "That's fantastic."

Erik smirked. "I'm glad you agree. Not as many parents are as… accepting as you are." He knitted his fingers together on the table as her smile dwindled. The German went on regardless, "Your daughter is lucky to have you."

"Hm." The elderly woman's eyes narrowed subtly at him. "How do I know you ain't just gonna lock her in a room and use 'er as a lab rat?"

Charles and Erik shared a conspiring smile. The former leaned forward. His fingers pressed to his temple, he spoke telepathically to her, "We would never do that to a fellow mutant, Mrs. Ailey."

Her blue eyes widened at him as a smile stretched over her lips. The men chuckled as she turned to Erik expectantly. The mutant smirked as raised his hand. The metal kettle floated toward it seamlessly, and he grinned proudly as the woman slapped the table with an open palm and a laugh.

"Amazing!" She crowed with nothing short of sheer warmth, "Both of you!"

It was at this moment her daughter ushered Raven into the kitchen. Charles smirked as he watched Erik's jaw drop. Subtle the Lehnsherr man was not. Admittedly, it was slightly hard not to gawk at a mutation as obvious as the young Ailey woman's. Much less when so much of her fantastic skin could be seen around her modest bathing gown.

"My god," The man beside him muttered.

Fern swallowed uncomfortably. The lines and waves of grey on her face and neck flickered, and for a moment Charles was sure he could see the teal from the wall behind her pass through them.

"Yeah." She chuckled with a hint of nervousness as she rubbed the back of her neck. "I get that a lot."

"Amazing, isn't she?" Raven asked fondly, her arm looping around the girl's shoulders. Fern tensed, but the blonde didn't notice as she pulled her into a brief, one armed hug. Some lake water stained her black wool coat, but she neither noticed nor cared.

Erik's gaze swept over the young woman. "Positively marvelous."

"Indeed you are, Miss Ailey." The telepath stood from his chair. With a bit of a smirk on his lips, he offered his hand as he continued, "Charles Xavier. I believe we spoke on the phone?"

"Yeah…" Fern offered him a crooked, somewhat embarrassed smile as she shook it. "Heh, sorry about that. I'm a lot better in person than on the phone."

He inclined his head, his bright smile never leaving his face. If he noticed the odd sensation of the pads of her fingers against his skin, he didn't mention it. "No apologies necessary, I assure you."

Josie looked between the four of them and beamed. "Fern, baby, do you have any questions for these nice young men?"

A head shake. "None." She looked meekly to her mother and shrugged. "I'm gonna go, if that's alright with you."

"Of course it is!"

Fern's large eyes narrowed at her mother. With a hint of a frown, she bristled. "You don't have to be so enthusiastic about it."

"Yes I do." Josie stood, still grinning. Her hands cupped her daughter's face a moment before she spun the teen toward the door. "Come on, babe, let's get you packed." She turned to point at the dog as she reached the threshold. "Bruno. Guard."

The massive beast quickly took to snarling at the men in front of him. They gaped at the elderly woman, who smirked at them. With mock innocence, she batted her eyes. "What? I might trust you with my daughter, but that don't mean I trust ya with my silverware."

With that the three women went upstairs. Defeated, Erik and Charles sat back down, the both of them pouting somewhat.

"Do you think they would mind if I took a quick shower?" The grey girl asked Raven as they moved up the stairs to her room. "I don't want to smell like lake the whole way back."

The blonde shrugged. "I don't see why not. I think they're just taking us to the airport." She smiled impishly at Fern and elbowed her gently in the side. "And I'd certainly appreciate it."

"Go on." Josie gave her daughter a light pat on the butt. "It'll give me some time to get to know Raven here."

Fern smiled tightly at them and slipped into main bathroom. It didn't take her long to undress and she made it a point to shower quickly. With well-practiced ease, she stripped the scent of stagnant water from her scaled skin and gave her hair a thorough washing. While it may have had some to do with not waiting to keep the others waiting, she mostly didn't want to give her mother too much time to (oh so lovingly) embarrass her.

Dressing in a pair of dirty sweats from the hamper, the young brunette wasted no time hanging around the bathroom.

The women looked up from the empty suitcase Josie had thrown on the bed.

Fern smiled sheepishly at them. "Hey, sorry."

"No biggie," Raven was quick to assure her with a grin. "We weren't sure what you might need so we thought we'd just wait."

Her mother smirked at the young blonde's particular ways. Apparently Raven seemed to be under the impression that the Ailey girl had some sort of fashion sense. With her hands in her back pockets, she glanced at the stranger with a shrug, "I told her you'd probably just dump the whole drawer, but she wouldn't listen to me."

It only took a few minutes to pack a bag. Like her mother had predicted, the young Ailey more or less just dumped her underwear drawer into the bag. Fern had never been very fussy about clothing. She mostly wore and only intended on taking what she knew she would wear. Practical clothing; things like sweats and jeans, long sleeve t-shirts and a few hooded sweatshirts to help hide her face. At Raven's pestering, Fern threw in an extra pair of sneakers and Josie convinced her to take her cowboy boots ("Just in case you go anywhere fancy," the elderly woman insisted with a wink). As her mother and the stranger spoke, the grey girl slipped one of her clean bathing suits in one of the side pockets. She probably wouldn't find a chance to use it, but she figured it was best to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. She also put in a few baseball caps and an extra pair of leather gloves to cover her hands.

While she did this, the room was filled with idle chitchat about the CIA and Raven's abilities.

"So, you can imitate anyone?" Fern asked with a sly smirk that flashed a hint of sharp teeth. "Down to the very last detail?"

A touch hesitantly, the blonde confirmed, "Yes…"

The young Ailey's smile turned devious. "So if I ever wanted to see Charles naked you could show me his-"

"Fern!"

The grey girl winced as her mother whacked her upside the head. She snickered to herself and offered them a coy shrug. "It was just a question."

"The Jew is much more attractive!" Josie chided with a catlike grin of her own.

It dwindled down to a weak smirk as her only daughter closed her suitcase. Raven glanced between them with a soft smile of her own before offering to step out and give them some privacy. The Aileys' watched her go and waited for the door to close before looking at one another.

Josie cleared her throat. She had never been particularly comfortable with sentimentality. "You should probably get changed. Unless you wanna go down and show them young fellas your skivvies."

Fern glanced down at her pajamas. She rubbed the back of her neck with a sheepish nod. "Yeah, you're probably right."

She grabbed a pair of pants from her dresser and a long sleeve shirt. Her mother turned to give her some privacy. The girl had always been rather finicky about privacy, at least when it came to nudity. Over her shoulder, Josephine asked, "So… excited?"

"I guess." The girl slipped out of her sweats and into dark jeans. It was normal for the young mutant to cover as much skin as possible when she was in public, and she reached for a tenser bandage as she went on, "A bit nervous, actually."

"Understandable." Josie nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Licking her lips, she went on, "They seem nice."

Fern winced as she tightened the bandage around her chest. Her modest bust was easy to hide, but the process of pressing them down was still rather unpleasant. She had found at an early age the less feminine you appeared, the less you were hassled (at least about certain things). She tucked in the excess piece into the edge with a frown and reached for a long sleeve black t-shirt.

"I guess."

"Not that I expected any less," A hint of smugness laced the elderly woman's tone.

Fern rolled her eyes behind her mother's back. She hated that tone. She tucked her shirt into her pants with a frown. "You think they'll turn me into some kind-"

"Of lab rat? No," Josie finished as she turned to look at her daughter, just in time to see her sliding on a worn pair of leather gloves. Her blue eyes rolled. "Are those really necessary?"

"Better safe than sorry, right?" The girl grinned puckishly, flashing some sharp white teeth and just a hint of annoyance. As if to emphasize her point, she gave them a tug up her wrist.

Her mother dropped her hands to Fern's shoulders. She watched her daughter's face a moment before brushing some of the still wet black hair from her cheeks. Fern bit her lip as Josie spoke, "If you get uncomfortable and want to come home, you're welcome to. I won't be disappointed, so long as you try, okay, baby?"

"Okay, Ma."

"That's my girl," Josie said fondly.

Fern threw her arms around her, hugging her tightly and burying her face in her mother's neck. Voice barely above a whisper, she closed her eyes, "Thank you so much for everything."

The woman didn't say anything to that, just stroked the girl's hair and held her just as tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I would never recommend anyone ever use a tenser bandage to bind their chest, but apparently sports bras weren't invented until 1977, so I couldn't use that method.


	5. Girlfriends, Goodbyes and Pilots

Josephine pulled back with a sigh. Her blue eyes moved over her daughter's features, red rimmed and radiating warmth as she thumbed Fern's scaled cheek. They were rather close in height now. With a smirk, she set her hand on top of the girl's head and gave it a pat.

Fern pulled back from her with a groan. Brushing her black hair from her face, she huffed. "Oh my god, Ma, it's an inch! Quit gloating!"

"An inch more than you got, baby."

The young woman pursed her lips. With a shake of her head, she stepped around her mother and grabbed her suitcase off the bed. Throwing it on her back, Fern shrugged as she tightened her grip on its handle. She adjusted to the extra weight with ease and nodded toward the door. "Walk me out?"

The elderly woman inclined her head. "I'd be happy to."

"Yeah, a little too damn happy if ya ask me."

Josie grinned. She wrapped her arm around the girl's broad shoulders and steered her toward the door. "I'm gonna turn your bedroom into a kennel for Bruno's little girlfriend."

"Bruno's little girlfriend is a hundred pound Rottweiler."

"So?" She gave her shoulder a squeeze before letting her arm drop. As they slipped out of the room, she went on, "Giant dogs with unknown rabies statuses need love too, baby."

Fern's eyes narrowed slightly. "No they don't."

"Yes, they do." The woman smirked. As she began to lead her down the stairs, she continued, "Don't act like they're not adorable together."

The grey skinned girl shook her head. "I'm starting to think you've got a thing for strays, Ailey."

Josephine turned and shot her a glare. Eyes fierce and tone stern, the blonde snapped, "Don't talk about yourself like that- and don't you roll your eyes at me Fern Ailey, or I will knock you down the rest of these stairs, so help me God, darlin'."

"Your idle threats have no effect on me anymore, old woman." Fern winked playfully at her.

"Don't make me get the broom, sugar."

The younger Ailey's skin flickered a moment and she quickly assured her mother, "I'll be good."

"Well," A masculine voice cut in. The women looked over to find the taller man, Erik, standing a few feet away from the bottom of the stairway. His smile wide and just a touch wicked, he continued, "Not too good, I hope."

Josie lifted a fine blonde brow at him. She felt Fern tilt away from the man, could see her skin twist with discomfort from the corner of her eye and put a hand on her shoulder. Voice a touch colder than it had been, the elderly woman asked him, "Didn't I tell Bruno to guard you?"

"Raven's spoiling him with her affections in the kitchen as we speak." Completely undeterred by her tone, he looked back at Fern. "All packed?"

She offered him a curt nod and stepped down the final stair.

It was then Charles and Raven made their reappearance, with Bruno trailing hotly at the blonde woman's heels. Both mutants wore excited smiles. It was the man who took the lead however, and quickly moved to take the suitcase still slung over the younger Ailey's back. "Erik! Where are your manners?! May I?"

"I'm good," Fern told him, her skin still a bit darker than usual.

With a more genuine grin, she moved to give her dog's head a rub. Bruno let out a gruff bark and his tongue lolled out, relishing in the abundance of affection he seemed to be getting lately. The membrane over Fern's eyes blinked over them as she hugged the large animal. Her heart heavy, she pulled away from him. The girl ruffled his cheeks and growled playfully at him before standing.

With a hitch her voice, she asked, "Shall we?"

Charles nodded and led the group outside.

"Call me when you get there," Josie told her daughter, but she made no move to venture past the door. Her features steeled, she offered her daughter a wink as Fern squared her shoulders. The grey girl returned the gesture with a smirk and threw her suitcase in the trunk before sliding into the backseat.

The dog began to whine as Fern got in the car. It moved restlessly around Josephine's feet, whimpering and pulling to follow, but the woman kept a tight hold on the dog's collar.

Raven slid into the back seat beside her with a soft encouraging smile on her lips. Fern didn't acknowledge it, nor did she look back at her mother or the house, as they pulled out into the hidden driveway that would lead to the highway.

"So, Miss Ailey," Charles began. He glanced at her in the rearview mirror and grinned at her, "Did Raven mention that we hope to have several others at the base by the time your plane arrives?"

"More or less." Fern smirked. "I guess this means you don't know Casten, huh?"

"Not exactly," the British man admitted. "But from what I've seen, he seems like a lovely man."

The grey girl hummed with doubt. "He's alright."

"Not a fan of doctors?" Erik asked from the passenger seat. His suitcase open in front of him, his stoic gaze didn't leave the pages in his lap.

"Not at all."

The blonde beside her pursed her lips to suppress a smile. "Well…" Raven chuckled, "I'm sure Hank will be happy to hear that."

"Hank?" Fern repeated skeptically.

"He's one of us," Raven was quick to assure her. "He's a scientist at the base."

Charles stiffened in the front seat. His blue eyes lifted once more to the mirror and he cleared his throat, earning a quick, frightened glance from the grey skinned girl. Delicately raising his fingers to his temple, the Brit let Erik take control of the vehicle as he watched memories play in Fern's mind. There was a haze of scalpels and speculums, of needles and restraints put in place by cold hands and he offered her what he had seen of Hank in response.

Fern flinched at the intrusion into her mind. It wasn't painful; just surprising. She honestly hadn't thought of what Charles' or Erik's mutations could be. Frankly, she had been too blown away by Raven to really care. It was odd to see, pictures playing out in front of her eyes in such a way. There had been no television in her home growing up or in the homes of anyone she knew (not that she knew many people), but she supposed that the experience was similar.

The young man Charles showed her wore horn rimmed glasses and spoke excitedly about genetics. His enthusiasm reminded the scaled girl of Casten. The psychic also showed her his feet and his hesitance, something Fern was grateful for and she eased back into her seat before the panic could really set in.

The blonde beside her glanced between the two but said nothing on their little exchange. Instead, she asked if Fern had ever been on a plane before. When she answered in the negative, Raven beamed. "You'll love it. It's so pretty up there."

Fern lifted an amused, near invisible brow at the blonde, but stayed quiet.

"You're not scared of heights, are you?"

"No."

"Oh, good." When the taller girl merely continued to smirk at her, Raven looked to the front seat. "Where are you fellas off to again?"

"Our next mutant is in Georgia," Erik replied as they continued down the highway.

Charles had taken control of the wheel once more and they were making fairly good time. Without a doubt they would be at the private landing strip in less than an hour. Agent Sullivan had been the one to make the arrangements and had assured them he would meet the young ladies at the strip when they landed in Virginia.

"Do you know anything about them?" Fern asked curiously.

"His name is Armando," Charles told her. Keeping his eyes on the room, he added, "he drives a cab in Atlanta."

The young woman nodded, but let Raven take over the conversation once more. The blonde was exuberant, happy to fill the silence with banter with Charles about the prospect of finding more mutants. Erik and Fern were content to listen with the former occasionally butting in to remind his friend that it wasn't the best idea to put blind faith in the government.

By the time they reached the airport, the two were in an intense discussion about the difference between trusting humanity and naivety. Both of the young women were very bored by it. Raven, because she had heard it before, and Fern, because she knew better than to trust anyone past a certain extent. While Charles peaceful outlook was adorable, she had seen Erik's harsh reality and found it easier to accept.

The plane itself had been stripped of all staff except for a pilot, who had been informed early on that he would be couriering two young ladies with skin conditions. The pilot seemed completely at ease with the notion and even made a point to introduce himself to the both of them before takeoff.

"Michael Jacobi."

Fern arched a brow, but said nothing as he shook hands with Raven. He was in his mid to late forties, pale and portly, but smiling pleasantly. When he hesitated to do the same with Fern, she smiled at him and simply lifted a hand in a wave. "Good to meet you."

The relief was palpable on his face, but the young Southerner didn't take offense. He inclined his head and tipped his hat respectively. "And you, Miss Ailey."

"You're not put off by my…?" A gloved hand gestured to her face.

"For the money they pay me, you could be Satan himself and I'd still be have to transport you, Miss Ailey."

"Who says I'm not?"

Michael faltered a moment before letting out a nervous chuckle.

Raven sent an elbow into Fern's side. The grey girl didn't so much as flinch, merely continued to smirk at the man in front of them. When he remained uncomfortable, Fern blinked and let her expression soften a touch. "Have you been a pilot long?"

"Nearly twenty five years."

"Were you in the war?"

He blinked, "Why, yes, I was."

"Then I thank you for your services." The Ailey girl inclined her head in respect. Brightening a touch, she smiled and asked, "Do you think you could show me how me the cockpit? I've never been on a plane before."

Michael returned her grin and nodded. "I'd be happy to." His gaze shifted to Raven, "Would you care to join us, Miss Darkholme?"

"No thanks." The blonde waved a dismissive hand. "I've heard enough about plane semantics and how engines work in the past week to last a life time."

Fern lifted a near invisible brow, but didn't ask. She merely assumed it had something to do with Hank, the young man she had gushed about on the ride to the airport (much to her peers annoyance). With a shrug, the young woman looked back to Michael. "Lead the way, Mr. Jacobi."


	6. Agent Sullivan, Hank and Angel

The airplane took them directly to the C.I.A landing strip at the base in Virginia. It was mostly desolate, with a few lone agents scuttling about. The air was mild and a touch humid, surprising for the time of year, but not so bad as to have something to complain about. The afternoon sun was shining brightly overhead, warming the tarmat under the plane's wheels and soon to be under the young women's feet.

Fern was back in her gloves and jacket, something she had shed whilst on the plane. She'd thrown on a baseball cap for good measure and let Raven take the lead after they bid the pilot goodbye. With her bag slung over her back, the taller woman followed the blonde out of the plane.

"So, we're about to meet Agent Sullivan," Raven explained as they made their way down the air stairs. She glanced over her shoulder. "You'll like him, he's really nice."

"Is he a mutant?"

"No, but he likes them. He's nice."

The grey girl lifted a doubtful brow. "The nicer you say he is, the worst I expect, you know that, right?"

Before she could respond to Fern's suspicion, a faint call of "Ladies!" broke their mutual frowning. Raven turned toward the voice, not noticing the other mutant eying her warily, before Fern looked toward the sound as well.

A plump man in a black suit was coming toward them in a golf cart. He was grinning widely, his dark eyes hidden behind spectacles and his hair perfectly parted as he stopped the vehicle.

"Agent Sullivan," Raven greeted him with a smile. "Good to see you again."

The agent in black returned her sentiment as he shook her delicate hand. "Likewise, Ms. Darkholme. How was the flight?"

"Long."

"I bet." Agent Sullivan lifted his gaze to the brunette behind the blonde. Most of her features were hidden under her baseball cap, with only her luminous blue eyes gleaming out at him. From what he could tell, her skin was completely scaled except for her lips (which were pursed) and she seemed to radiate nervous energy. Her appearance was jarring, but not wanting to make her uncomfortable, he steeled his surprise as best he could. He offered Fern his hand with a smile. "You must be Ms. Ailey."

"Must be," The girl teased with a hint of a smirk. She kept her lips purposely close together, not wanting to scare the seemingly nice man off with her sharp teeth.

His handshake was firm but not so tight as to be painful or an attempt at dominance. She liked that, just as she liked his lack of reaction to her admittedly outlandish features. A more genuine simper tugged at her mouth as he offered to take her bag.

"I think I can handle it." Licking her lips (and flashing a very pink tongue in the process), Fern shifted the weight on her back. "We're staying in your division, right?"

Agent Sullivan nodded. "That you are, Ms-"

"Call me Fern."

"Fern," The pudgy man repeated with an ill repressed grin. "Call me Blake. If you'll follow me, ladies, I can show you to your quarters. Ms. Salvadore's been waiting for you."

As he turned to led them to the golf cart, Fern gave Raven's hip a gentle check with her own. When the blonde arched a brow, the grey girl smirked. "And you thought I'd have trouble making friends."

Raven scoffed and gave her a playful shove toward the cart.

After a tour that could only be described as excruciatingly long and unnecessary, Agent Sullivan eventually took them to the break room turned meeting area. The only person in the room was a young woman dressed, much like the agent, all in black. She grinned as they entered.

"Finally!" Angel gushed as she tossed the magazine she had been reading aside. "Took you long enough, Raven."

"We got caught up with the welcoming brigade," Raven explained as she accepted a hug from the shorter girl.

As the two said their hellos, the lithe brunette turned to the Agent in black. Fern adjusted her hat and she asked if he could show her to a telephone.

"I'd be happy to, but I think there's someone who'd like to meet you first." Agent Sullivan tipped his head toward Angel, who was smiling at them.

Thus Fern was forced to face yet another person who was entirely too excited to meet her. Angel Salvadore was a beautiful young woman around her age, with light brown skin and dark eyes lined with dark make up. Her gaze was more curious than alarmed, something Fern appreciated, but the shorter girl made no move to shake her hand.

Eying the gloves on the new comer's hands, Angel asked, "How was the flight?"

"Informative," The grey girl replied with a smirk.

"Well, it wouldn't have been so informative if you didn't spend the entire time in the cockpit," Raven cut in, enjoying the ripple of embarrassment that coursed through Fern's scales at her teasing.

Angel's brows shot up. "Woah! How'd you do that?"

"Do what?" The taller brunette cocked her head with false naivety, hoping the girl would drop the subject.

Angel did not. "That thing with your skin!"

Fern rubbed the back of her neck. Her skin wavered, the muted colors swirling with frustration. This wasn't exactly an abnormal conversation for her. "It just does that sometimes. Sorry, I know it throws some people off."

"Miss Ailey." Recognizing the girl's discomfort, Agent Sullivan stepped in. A careful hand on Fern's back, he offered her a crooked grin. "Perhaps it's time you make that phone call. I can introduce you to Hank afterwards."

As they turned and left the break room, the mutant pursed her lips before licking her teeth. "I really don't want to meet him."

Agent Sullivan glanced down at the girl's stern features. "He's not that bad. A little awkward, but a nice guy."

"We don't have to get physicals, do we?"

"Not that I know of."

"Good." Fern nodded and let her tense features mellow somewhat.

Hoping to change the girl's mood, the man changed the subject, "You're from Tennessee, right?"

Fern nodded, "Boone Lake. It's a pretty small town." She gave one of the men they passed a wide berth. "I don't think I've seen so many people in one place before- I mean, not since I was a kid, anyway."

"Really?" Agent Sullivan blinked in surprise. There were maybe a dozen people in the hall, not nearly enough to be considered many by any means. Still, he supposed with Fern's condition, it only made sense the young woman avoided certain social aspects. He offered her a friendly smile. "Well, no one will bother you here, and if they do, they'll answer to me."

He held the door to his office open for her. Fern stared at him a long moment, but let her features blossom into a grin of her own. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome, young lady." The Agent in black inclined his head respectfully. "Now, why don't I go fetch Hank and give you and whoever it is you're calling some privacy?"

The girl nodded before she stepped into the office. "Thanks."

It was clean and smelled faintly of cologne mixed with coffee. She dropped her bag at the door before venturing further in. With a hint of amusement tugging at her lips, Fern looked over the various degrees and awards that lined the wall. There weren't many, but there were a few for going above and beyond the call of duty and she had to admit, she was impressed. Other than that, however, there wasn't much. Nothing seemed to indicate he had any sort of family or loved ones and the girl felt a twinge of sadness for the good natured man who had guided her in and done his best to make her comfortable.

Fern plucked the handle from the receiver and made to call her mother. Her fingers didn't fit in the dial. Cursing whoever invented rotary phones, the girl pulled her gloves off with her teeth. They fell to the desktop without second thought. She jabbed at the dial and bared her teeth at it when her fingertip stuck to the rim of it. Her pointed fingernail was just barely too short to spin the dial. With a huff, she pulled open the desk drawer and grabbed the first pen she saw. Scowling, she began to tick off her phone number with the capped end of it.

Josie answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Well someone's eager," Fern teased.

"Ha ha," Her mother replied sarcastically. Excitement painfully obvious in her tone, she asked, "How was your flight? Have you met any other mutants yet? What's the weather like? You didn't pack enough. I should've made you pack more."

The girl rolled her eyes, but didn't resist grinning at the woman's obvious worry. "The flight was fine. I've met one other girl and I'm supposed to meet some doctor guy any minute now."

"What kind of doctor?"

"A mutant one, apparently."

With a hint of confusion, Josie asked, "Like, a doctor of mutants or a mutant who is a doctor?"

"The second one."

"Well, ain't that swell." There was nothing but sincerity in Josie's words.

Fern felt her voice catch as a few seconds of silence lingered between them. She could practically feel the distance and it weighed on her a moment before she spoke again, "And I packed plenty, thank you."

"Oh, you did not!" Her mother snapped playfully at her. "Underwear and jeans ain't enough for anything."

A bit bristled, the young woman shot back, "They're all you wear."

"Well I'm not trying to impress anybody."

"Neither am I, so what?"

"So you could meet a nice young fella while you're there," Josie replied innocently, unable to see how hard Fern rolled her eyes at that. "Then what? You're just gonna woo him in your skivvies and baseball cap?"

"Maybe I will!" The grey girl giggled.

"Maybe you'll have to more like."

A faint knock on the door interrupted Fern's comeback. Agent Sullivan poked his head inside and made to leave when he realized she was still on the phone. The mutant held up a hand and stood up straighter. Talking into the receiver, she told her mother she had to go.

"Okay, be safe, baby."

"Thanks, you too. Love ya, Ma."

"Love you too, darlin'. Try not to bite anybody."

"Yeah, whatever."

Josie chuckled before she hung up.

Fern held the receiver to her ear a bit longer than necessary. She already missed the sound of her mother's voice, but squared her shoulders and grabbed her gloves as Agent Sullivan ushered a young man inside.

It was the same one Charles had shown her. Tall and skinny and a touch too pale, Hank visibly faltered at the sight of the young woman beside the desk. Both Charles and Blake had warned him about her skin, but he hadn't expected her to have such a dramatically inhuman appearance.

Fern didn't like him. Perhaps it was the pristine white lab coat he was wearing or how anxiously he was adjusting his glasses, but she didn't like him. It was judgmental and petty, she knew, but the young woman didn't particularly care. She tugged her leather gloves on and crossed her arms in a defensive, insolent manner.

"You must be Fern," The scientist assumed, moving toward her with an outstretched hand.

Interest gleamed in his blue eyes and for every step forward, Fern took one back until she was eventually around the other side of the desk. Practically beside Agent Sullivan in the doorway, she replied with a curt, "You can call me Miss Ailey."

"Oh." He flinched somewhat, but was quick to reply, "Well, you can call me Hank."

"What's your last name?"

"Uh, McCoy?"

Fern nodded curtly. "Let's stick with that." At the Agent's gentle, encouraging nudge, she rolled her eyes and added, "For now."

Hank smiled with a hint of dejection in his features. "Very well. Agent Sullivan has asked me to show you to the women's quarters, so anytime you're ready…"

The grey girl grabbed her bag from the floor and motioned with a flick of her wrist. "Lead the way, McCoy."

The skinny man nodded and quickly darted between the two of them. Once he was gone, Fern shot the man in black a glare. "Traitor."

"Now, now, Fern, there's no need for name calling," Agent Sullivan teased, his hand dropping carefully to her shoulder. He steered her out of his office, assuring her, "If you need me, you know where to find me. I'll check in on you later, alright?"

The young woman gave a hum that lacked conviction as the door closed at her back. Hackles effectively raised, she shot Hank a suspicious glance. "I don't need to have a physical do I?"

"Well, it wouldn't be a bad idea- I mean, no, no you do not. Not at all," He assured her, his eagerness to study her skin stumbling at the sight of her bared sharp teeth.

"Good." Fern nodded curtly. Tightening the grip on the handle of her suitcase, she followed a step or so behind him. Raking her gaze over his back, she ignored his glance over his shoulder as she asked what exactly his mutation was. When he blushed, she expanded, "Raven said it was physical. Charles showed me your feet, but is that all?"

Hank frowned at her wording. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She lifted an apathetic shoulder. "Nothing."

In truth, the young woman was slightly saddened by the fact that Hank looked perfectly normal. Especially since Raven could hide herself so well. Fern felt a twinge of bitterness, but pushed it down easily enough. She couldn't fault the blonde for wanting normalcy, but the young woman found herself a bit disappointed none the less. She had expected Raven to wear her natural blue skin; first when they were in the car, then the plane and when she hadn't transformed back when they got to the base, Fern knew she would be the lone freak of the group. The only one with a physical mutation that could be seen, but she hid her sadness well.

"Here we are," Hank told her with a weak smile as they came to a stop. "It's not much, but you and the other girls should be quite comfortable here. If you like, you could rest for a while before the others come."

"No, that's alright." Fern slipped inside the room.

It wasn't as small as she had expected from his warning, but she supposed after living in a five by five room for four years, any room seemed large by comparison. With two sets of bunk beds lining parallel walls. It was painted a faint grey and her skin mirrored the color a moment as she pulled her baseball cap off. She tucked it in her back pocket before tossing her suitcase on to the bottom bunk of the closest bed.

Her hair was pin straight and fell just past her shoulders. She fluffed it absently as she looked to Hank.

The young man was slender, bordering on skinny and seemed to be trying to cave in on himself. His shoulders were drawn together and his features a bit tense, but Fern didn't take offense to it.

The dislike was mutual after all, and she could admit, she had done her best to instill said dislike in him. Instead of trying to make friends with her sparkling personality and charm, she merely asked him to direct her back to the break room where the other girls were.

"I'd be happy to show you-"

Fern raised a hand to stop him. Hank's gaze flickered down to her gloves curiously, but didn't interrupt her when she told him she could find her own way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Agent Sullivan is the man in the black suit, Oliver Pratt's character in the movie. They never gave him a name and from what I can tell, he doesn't have a fandom name.


	7. The Boys Arrive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Linda Ku!

Fern liked to think she was interacting with the other women fairly well. She had maintained eye contact, offered smiles when expected, and even managed to keep from crawling up the walls when she caught sight of Hank in his little white lab coat in the doorway.

The young man raised his hand in greeting, a bit startled by how the lithe woman was perched on the back of the couch like a snake coiled to strike. With her shoulders drawn up and gloved fingers tense on the couch beside her feet. It was a rather impressive stance given that her sneakers probably didn't hold much traction and how delicately she seemed to rest with all her weight on the balls of her feet and toes. She didn't wave back; just stared at him with cold, expressionless eyes.

Looking over at the girls on the couch across from her, he greeted, "Evening, ladies. I just thought you should know we just got word from one of the others, they should be arriving within the hour."

"Really?" Raven beamed at him, her delight obvious and endearing. It also earned a faint blush from Hank, which prompted Angel and Fern to share an amused smirk, but they stayed quiet.

"Yes, hopefully," He replied, toeing the floor in a bashful manner. "I believe they took a cab."

"I can't believe we're finally going to meet them!" The blonde began to bounce excitedly in her seat, slapping Angel gently on the leg while she gushed, "All us mutants together in one place, it's amazing!"

Fern lifted an apathetic shoulder and reminded the blonde nonchalantly, "All the easier for the government to wipe us out in one fell swoop, too."

Raven rolled her eyes as Angel snickered. "Fern. Seriously. Do we have to go over this again?"

"I'm just saying, it seems a little odd." The grey girl sniffed, her gloves squeaking as she unlaced her fingers. Her tone was surprisingly mellow as she lifted a shoulder and raised a passive, gloved hand, "If ever there was a chance to wipe us out, it's now. They could do anything to us. We're miles from home, alone, and pretty much defenseless, Rav. Nothing's stopping them from going all Valentine's Day Massacre on us."

The blonde shook her head. Blue eyes rolling, she huffed at her new friend. "You're being paranoid."

"You're being naïve," The brunette shot back.

Raven scoffed. "Okay, Erik, I'll keep that in mind."

Fern glared at her, but kept her mouth shut. Eyes narrowed, she pointedly looked down at the couch cushions a few feet below her. Canines grinding together, the girl's skin flickered with irritation as she rocked on the balls of her feet.

"You said they're all coming together?" It was Angel who took over the conversation for Fern. In truth, she found the grey girl a little intimidating; a bit too stand offish and tight lipped, but she could admit, Fern had a valid point. Still, she didn't want to indulge in the taller brunette's paranoia. "In the same cab?"

Hank pushed his glasses up, his gaze slowly shifting from Fern's scowl to Angel's open, curious expression. "Yes, it seems one of them owns one and offered to pick the others up."

"Armando."

The young man blinked in surprise. He looked back to the grey girl. Her features were muted and for a moment he was unsure she had spoken at all. "Pardon?"

"His name is Armando," She told him without looking up.

Angel's eyes widened. "Are you psychic too?"

"What?" Fern blinked in surprise. Her body tense and shoulders drawn up, the young woman was visibly uncomfortable with all eyes on her. "No, Charles said so on the way up."

The shorter brunette's shoulders slumped. "Oh."

"Sorry to disappoint?" Fern offered with a chuckle.

Raven grinned at the sound, pleased the air had lightened once more. She looked to Hank, who was standing a bit stiffly beside them and gave the seat next to her a pat. "Come on, sit with us."

"I can't- I'm hoping to finish some semantics on the Blackbird before they get here."

"Oh." The blonde's face fell somewhat. After a second of pouting, she forced herself to brighten once more. "Okay. We'll see you soon, right?"

"Of course! I'm just as excited as you are, you know."

Fern watched the exchange curiously. She noted their tiny smiles; noted Hank's slightly flushed cheeks and Raven's somewhat dreamy gaze and wondered just what it was that drew such different people to one another. She didn't dwell on it, not really caring enough about either of them to speculate why that may be.

Instead, she hopped off the back of the couch. On long legs, she strode over to the fridge behind the bar and got out a bottle of Coke. She held it up for the girls to see as Hank made his exit. "Anyone want one'a these while I'm here?"

"I do," Angel replied.

Raven only shook her head. As Fern made her way back, she spoke, "So, what'd you think the guys can do?"

"I thought you didn't want us talking about our mutations until everyone was here?" The brunette beside her asked, arching a thick brow as she took the Coke from Fern. Reaching for her purse, she nodded with a quick, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," The grey girl replied before she dropped into one of the chairs beside Angel. She pulled one of her gloves off with her teeth and kicked a foot up on the table in front of her (something she never would have done in the presence of her mother). "I thought Charles would've told you."

As the brunette beside her continued to search for a church key in her purse, Raven sighed. "He said he didn't want to ruin the surprise."

Fern hummed and popped the lid off with a sharp tipped fingernail. It clattered onto the table and she leaned over and did the same to Angel's before the girl could ask.

The shorter woman smiled. "I didn't know you could do that!"

The lithe girl shrugged, but only sipped her soda in reply.

Less than forty minutes later, Hank was done with his work. Agent Sullivan had poked his head in to inform him that the other mutants had arrived and the younger man couldn't have stripped out of his lab coat faster. A wide grin stretched over his lips as he fell in step with the Agent.

"When did they get here?" He asked, hoping he hadn't offended them by being late like he had Fern. "They haven't been waiting long, have they?"

"Only a minute or two," Agent Sullivan assured him. "Apparently they had trouble finding a parking space."

The chubby man held the door open for him and the two slipped out into the slowly dying light. Three young men stood outside. They were speaking in quiet tones and turned to face the men as they came toward them.

"Gentlemen." Agent Sullivan nodded with clear excitement. "So glad you could make it."

"Glad you'd have us," Armando replied with a grin of his own. He was the tallest of the three, with dark skin and a small afro. He offered his hand and was pleasantly surprised when the Agent shook it without hesitation. "I'm Darwin, this here's Sean and the convict in the leather jacket is Alex."

"Nice, man, real nice." Alex shook his head with a crooked smile of his own. He was the shortest, although not by much, with perfectly styled blond hair and a few moles dotting his skin. He returned Sean's playful shove with a bit more force than necessary, but the redhead didn't seem to mind.

Sean stepped up to Hank, extending his own hand as Alex shifted to shake the Agent's behind them. He was lanky and pale, his skin covered in freckles and the only one with any form of luggage, even if it was just a backpack. "You're Hank McCoy, right?"

"Yes, I am." The brunet inclined his head. "How was your drive?"

The redhead shrugged, the strap of his beat up backpack falling slightly. "Long, but good. You're a mutant, too, right?"

The scientist's smile seemed to tighten a touch, still a bit uncomfortable discussing his abilities with strangers. While Raven had jumped at the chance to show off her mutation, Hank wasn't quite so eager to show his malformities to the world. "Yes, I am."

"You're the guy with the feet," Alex cut in, eying Hank's shoes with morbid curiosity. "Can we see 'em?"

Hank frowned at that. "Maybe later."

"Come on, we're all freaks here, right?" The blond smiled at him in a way that wasn't quite friendly as Sean scoffed at his lack of tact.

Hank swallowed. His smile wavered slightly, but remained forced on his slowly flushing face.

Darwin rolled his eyes. "Lay off, Summers. Not everyone's so accepting of your attitude as we are."

"He really doesn't appreciate us," Sean said in a stage whisper to Armando.

The taller young man shook his head sagely. "He really doesn't."

Alex rolled his eyes at them.

Hank gestured behind him, toward the doors of the building. "Shall we go meet the girls?"

Sean immediately perked up. "Girls? There are girls here?"

"Charles didn't tell you?"

"Probably because he was striking out at the aquarium," Alex explained, elbowing the redhead in the ribs.

"Hey!"

"There's three of them," Agent Sullivan explained. "All very nice young ladies."

"Although I doubt one of them will be to your, uh, liking," Hank told them with a cryptic little smirk.

The man in black frowned at him. "Hank."

Darwin eyed the two of them curiously. "Why not?"

"You'll see," Hank told them with a cryptic little simper. Nodding, he turned toward the building. "I'll show you to your room first, then we can meet them."

The three newcomers shared a curious glance, but shrugged off his odd words easily enough. It was Darwin who spoke as they were led toward the door, "Any chance of us stopping by the washrooms first? Getting cleaned up before we meet them?"

"I don't see why that would be a problem," Agent Sullivan told him with a shrug. The man in the black suit glanced at the younger scientist. "Why don't you show them the way, while I check in on Moira and the others?"

Hank nodded and held the door open for them.

Darwin went in first, followed closely by Sean, with Alex trailing behind. The blond looked down at Hank's feet curiously before he shot the taller brunet an unimpressed smirk. "They don't look that big to me."

"Alex!" Darwin snapped, reaching around Sean to grab the shorter man by the collar. He yanked him firmly inside. "Quit bein' rude!"

Inside, Angel and Fern were sitting in awkward silence. Well, Angel was, Fern was completely comfortable with the lack of conversation between them. The grey girl had put her hat back on, slung around backwards on her head, and seemed quite content to merely sip her Coke, while Angel struggled to fill the silence Raven had left behind when she went to powder her nose.

"So…" Angel faltered as Fern's inhuman eyes flickered toward her; at least, she thought they did. It was kind of hard to gauge where the young women was looking, given her lack of pupils. "What can you do?"

A crooked smile flashed very sharp teeth. "I thought we were supposed to wait?"

The shorter woman made a show of looking around, first to the right then to the left, before looking over the back of the couch. "I don't see anyone around to tell on us."

"You've held out this long, Salvadore," Fern teased with a grin. She noticed the way Angel's gaze dropped to her sharp canines and even sharper bicuspids, but didn't cover her teeth. "Don't ruin the surprise now."

The shorter brunette sighed. "I guess."

Silence fell over them once more. Fern shifted, pulling her foot off the table to join it's twin on the seat of her chair. "How long have you been at the base?"

Before Angel could answer, Raven's voice broke between them. "Guys, look who's here!"

Angel spun in her seat as Fern quirked upwards onto her toes to look over the other girl's head.

The blonde led the young men inside, with Darwin leading and Hank trailing at the rear. While Angel was rather unimpressed, Fern was quick to beam at them. One hand shot out to point in their direction as she cheered, "See?! I told you there'd be more like us!"

Hank's face went very red and his gaze fell to Darwin as Raven gaped at the brunette. "Fern!"

"What?"

"That's not part of his mutation, he's black," The blonde whispered fiercely at her. She turned to apologize to a stunned Darwin, but Fern's silvery voice interrupted her before she could start.

"Not him!" The grey girl shook her head with a hint of frustration. Her finger shifted an inch to the left to fall on Sean. "Him!"

The redhead pointed to himself with a hint of surprise. He had been a bit thrown by the young woman's attention, almost more so than he was her appearance. Carefully, he moved a bit closer to where she was sitting. Any attention from a woman was good attention, in his opinion. "Me?"

She nodded, still smiling. "Yeah."

Raven sighed and covered her face with her hands a moment before turning to the young men. "I am so sorry. She's…" The blonde stumbled for the right word a moment before settling on, "sheltered."

"I am not," Fern snapped, bristling slightly as Angel laughed. After a second, she tilted her head from side to side and admitted, "Okay, maybe a little, but I still know what black people are."

"Fern!" Raven growled through clenched teeth.

When the slender brunette merely blinked at her with confusion, Darwin chuckled. "It's cool. I don't think she means any harm." The young man arched a brow as he breezed over to the couch beside her. "Do you?"

Still unsure what everyone was so tense about, Fern merely blinked at him. "No?"

"See?" Armando smiled and took a seat next to Angel. "We're all good here. No harm no foul."

Raven sighed and took Hank by the hand. She led him over to the couch and Fern was quick to give up her seat in favor of sitting beside the blonde. She patted the grey girl's leg in a manner that reeked of condescension. "Don't mind her. She's still learning to play nice with the other kids."

Fern shoved her hand away as Sean fell into her old seat. Pulling her legs tightly to her chest, she pursed her lips. "I am not. Well, I am but…shut up, Raven."

"Alex!" Darwin called with a grin, his gaze shifting to the blond over the others' heads. "Will you get in here and stop lurking around the door?!"

Alex, who had been standing just inside the doorway since Fern had crowed so gleefully at them, found his voice. "Man, what the hell is wrong with your face?!"

Fern's eyes widened slightly, but didn't give the young man the satisfaction of a reaction. A few of the others did, with Angel letting out a shocked laugh and Raven turning to glare at her, but no one said anything. Darwin frowned at the blond and Sean and Hank shared a surprised glance, but no one said anything. So neither did she. Instead she looked to Sean. "What can you do?"

Raven gave her a light slap on the chest and the young brunette repressed a wince as the touch jarred a bit of her unseen tensor bandage. "It's not a mutation, he's just a redhead."

"Hey, I am more than just anything," Sean teased with a wide smile.

"Actually, she's technically correct." Hank leaned forward slightly so that Fern could see him. She wasn't paying him any attention, too busy trying to shift further away from Alex (who was now gaping at her from the seat only a foot or two away). The scientist went on regardless. "Being a redhead results from a mutated mc1r protein."

"See?" Fern elbowed Raven lightly in the arm as she stood. Walking around to the small table behind the couch, she hopped onto it with an easy grace. "Told ya so."

The blonde rolled her eyes at her.

"It's fairly rare, less than one percent of the population are redheads," the bespectacled man continued, pushing up his glasses as he spoke. "But it's really not much rarer than say, having blue eyes."

Sean beamed at them. Snapping his fingers dramatically, he crowed, "And I've got both!" He shifted in his seat, snickering along with the others. "I guess that makes me the alpha mutant."

"No, I'd say she's got that one covered," Alex replied with a jerk toward Fern.

The grey girl glared at him, but stayed silent.

"We haven't done introductions yet!" Raven hopped up from the couch. Her hands fell to the brunet's shoulders and she nodded, "Everyone, this is Hank, he's a genius."

The young man blushed, but merely lifted a hand.

"And this is Fern," Raven came around to the side of the table. "Fern, say hi."

The young woman just stared at her with blank blue orbs.

"Or don't, be antisocial, see if I care." She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder dramatically before planting her hand on her hip.

"I'm not being antisocial." Fern bounced slightly on her toes. "You're being patronizing and I'm ignoring you."

The blonde gave her a light shove in an attempt to throw her off balance, but Fern didn't so much as sway. Raven turned to the young man in the leather jacket and said, "This is Alex. Alex, you'll say hi, won't you?"

Alex just stared at her.

"I'll say hi," Sean replied, sitting up straighter. "I'm Sean and I'm just glad to be here and not where I was."

"A sentiment I'm sure Alex shares," Darwin teased, earning puzzled glances from the women that he waved off. "I'm Armando, but most people call me Darwin."

When his brown eyes fell on her, the petite brunette beside him rolled her eyes. "I'm Angel."

Raven beamed. "Awesome. This is so cool, I can't believe we're all here! Can I get anyone anything? We have Coke."

Darwin and Alex agreed and she grabbed a few from the fridge before she came back to the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fern's skin is modelled after the sunbeam snake. They're really reflective and well...cool.


	8. The Kids Show Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, 'blonde' is Raven, 'blond' is Alex.

"So where were you before?" Raven asked as she handed the men their drinks. A few glasses lined the table, and her own joined them as she spoke, "I mean, if you didn't want to be there."

"I was in school," The redhead replied.

"I was in prison."

The blonde's eyes widened a touch at Alex's casual response. She opened her mouth to respond although she wasn't entirely sure what to say, but Fern, surprisingly, saved her. The brunette glanced at the redhead and asked what he was studying. When Raven turned and offered her a dazzling smile (she was learning to socialize and the blonde was proud of her reclusive friend), the grey girl merely winked at her.

Both of them turned back to Sean as he answered with a shrug, "Art."

"What's so bad about art?" Angel asked with a quirked brow. "Seems like there are worse things to study."

"Hey, I'm all for art, but I am not all for living in a dorm room with two other guys with no sense of personal space or hygiene." Sean leaned back in his seat, raking his fingers through his shaggy hair as he sighed with distaste.

The girls' eyes all drifted over to Hank. Fern grinned at his discomfort as Angel smirked at him. It was the latter who teased, "You haven't showed them their quarters yet, have you?"

"We got sidetracked," The scientist admitted with a hint of pinkness to his cheeks.

Sean huffed and rubbed his face as he slumped in his seat. "Well, at least the company'll be good this time."

"Any chance of solitary in a place like this?" Alex asked before he took a sip of his soda.

"Afraid not," Hank told him with an absent frown.

"No!" Raven gave his knee a light slap. "No bad news! This is a happy occasion, okay? We're secret agents now!"

The others chuckled, but the girl pressed on, smoothing her long blonde hair as she did. "We should think of secret code names. We're secret agents now, we should have code names." Smiling widely, she announced, "I wanna be called Mystique."

"Damn," Sean teased. "I wanted to be called Mystique!"

"Well, too bad, I called it…" Raven shifted, her tan skin fluttering with scales for the briefest second before mellowing into freckled paleness. Where the blonde once sat, now sat the spitting image of Sean.

The reactions of the others varied, with Hank merely leaning away to give her more space, to Fern cackling and bouncing on her toes with delight. Angel gaped, Alex's jaw dropped and Darwin beamed. Sean, of course, had the most dramatic reaction as the young man tried to physically leap away from his doppelganger.

Voice mirroring the young man's drowsy drawl, Raven blinked slowly, "And I am way more mysterious than you."

From behind her, Fern teased, "How long've you been thinkin' that one up, Rav?"

Still in Sean's form, Raven turned to look at her. "Shut up, Fern."

The grey girl shook her head playfully and reached over to tug a strand of Raven's red hair. After she let go, the bubbly woman's skin shifted once more, the blue scales catching the light for only the briefest of seconds before turning back to the tan tone Raven preferred. When the blonde caught sight of the grey girl's disappointed frown, she swallowed and looked over to the man across from her. None of the others seemed to notice the slight catch in Raven's voice as she asked, "Darwin, what about you?"

"Well, uh, Darwin's already a nickname and it sorta fits…" Armando bobbed his head back and forth casually. "Adapt to survive and all."

With a smirk, the man bounced off the couch. "Check this out."

The group watched with eager curiosity (with Fern going so far as to rise up on pointe to get a better look) as Darwin strutted toward the fish tank against the wall. Shooting them another quick smile, Armando stuck his head in it. Before the young man could take so much as a watery breath, large gills sprouted from his cheeks. They ran the length of his face, past his temple to his goatee and he grinned as he looked toward the others. His expression only brightened further as they cheered for him.

Fern was the first person to speak as he pulled his head out. As Armando shook the water from his head dramatically, she shook her own and let her heels fall just a touch. "I have never been more jealous in my entire life."

"That was incredible," Hank told him as he applauded with Raven and Sean.

Bowing, Armando thanked them before he fell back into his seat. Angel rolled her eyes and made a show of wiping some of the stray beads of water off her leather jacket as he spoke to Sean, "What can you do?"

"I'm going to be…" Like the man before him, the redhead seemed to have a flair for the dramatic and he leaned forward in his seat. Drawing his shoulders up a moment, he relaxed and nodded. "Banshee."

Fern glanced at the young man in front of her as Hank sat up a bit straighter. With merely a puzzled frown, she listened as the bespectacled man asked, "Why do you want to be named after a wailing spirit?"

The redhead smirked as he popped out of his seat hips first. "You might wanna cover your ears."

The mutants shared curious glances; Alex with Fern, Armando with Angel and- well, Hank tried to share one with Raven, but she didn't seem to notice. Sean bent his knees, making his face almost level with the table and the series of half empty coke bottles and glasses that littered it. They did as he said and covered their ears (with the exception of Darwin, who didn't need to). The redhead sucked in a breath, holding it a moment while he shot each of the girls playful glances before letting out a chirp. A chirp so high pitched it shattered the large picture window that was behind the table.

The redhead slowly stood as the group uncovered their ears. Armando clapped and Raven giggled and Hank looked horrified for a few seconds. Not wanting him to end up being a wet blanket, Fern nudged the back of his head and offered him a shrug when he looked at her.

"I'm sure they can replace it," She told the scientist. Bouncing on her toes, she made a point of looking around in the same manner she had seen Angel do early to demonstrate her point. "It doesn't exactly look like they're hurtin' for money around here."

Hank looked like he wanted to argue, but before he could Sean had already prompted Angel to show off.

The shorter girl shook her head jokingly as she pulled off her jacket. Sean whistled at her as her halter top came into view. She ignored him. "My, uh, stage name was Angel." She turned her back to them, showing off her tattoos. Tattoos that pulled back from her skin to transform into pink, entomoid wings. With a teasing glance over her shoulder, Angel told them, "It kinda fits."

Fern beamed at her, her sharp canines catching the light as her skin rippled with delight.

In front of her, Raven leaned forward like an excited child as she shrieked, "You can fly?!"

"Uh-huh, and uh…" Angel turned and spit. A small fireball flew through the shattered window to land smack dab on the head of the statue outside. It sizzled as the group laughed. Sliding her jacket back on her shoulders, the petite brunette nodded to Hank. "What's your name?"

He looked visibly uncomfortable being the center of attention. He shifted in his seat, his gaze flickering from Angel to Raven. The pale man didn't get a chance to answer before Alex cut him off with a brash, "How about bigfoot?"

Hank crossed his legs and shied away from the blond's teasing.

Angel laughed as Raven scowled at him. On the defensive, she snapped at him, "Well, you know what they say about guys with big feet…"

Fern frowned. She had no idea what they said, but didn't ask. She had already gotten teased enough about being sheltered for one day.

"And yours are kinda small," the blonde finished, making a point to purse her lips with disappointment as she looked at the blond's sneakers.

Judging by the reactions from the group, Fern assumed Raven had said something rather catty, but once again chose to stay silent as Hank shot the girl beside him a grateful glance.

"Alex, what is your gift?" Darwin asked, extending a hand to him. "What can you do?"

Suddenly shy, Alex leaned forward to rub the back of his neck. Fiddling with his coke bottle, he told them, "I just can't do it…I can't do it in here."

Armando didn't let him off the hook so easily. "Can you do it out there?"

"Why don't you just do it out there?" Raven prompted.

"Come on," Angel added with an irritated scowl.

Beside her, Darwin began to clap and chant Alex's name, with Sean and Raven quickly joining in. Even Hank strained against a smile as the young man in leather reluctantly stood (to the joy of the group). Only Fern remained quiet as dread filled her stomach. After Alex shared, it would be her turn.

Frowning, the blond stalked toward the busted window. "Get down when I tell you."

Not to be deterred by his gruff tone, the others followed him to the window. They poked their heads out the window as Alex lined himself up with the statue.

"Get back," he warned them, but they merely slipped inside for a second before coming back out. "Get back!"

When the group ignored order, the blond shrugged.

"Whatever," He muttered to himself before he began to roll his shoulders and hips. Red light emanated from him, bright circles of pure energy that shot out from his torso. With a swivel of his hips, Alex shot two of them toward the statue. It sliced through the bronze like a hot knife through butter and the others let out shocked laughs as the head and torso fell to the wet grass.

As Hank stood gawking in horror at the destruction caused, Angel and Raven began to bounce with excitement. The other boys clapped and Fern made a vague effort to, although the sound was faint thanks to her gloves.

"Oh my god!" Raven crowed with delight as Alex came back to them. "We have to call you Havok!"

"You really don't," The blond told her with a hint of a frown. He made a point of going back to his seat and the others followed suit. His blue eyes flickered over to Fern. "Alright. Spill. What's with the skin?"

"Alex," Darwin scolded gently. Still, his brown eyes gleamed with curiosity as he, along with the rest of the mutants, glanced toward the grey girl.

The young woman rocked on her heels restlessly. "I can't show you-"

"Are you kidding me?" Alex snapped at her. "I torched a statue for these people!"

Fern's inhuman eyes narrowed on him. "I can't show you unless you want to wake up tomorrow morning in a coma."

"What do you mean?" Darwin asked. He leaned toward her a bit, along with Angel and Sean, as she unbuttoned her black overcoat.

Peeling it off, she tossed it into Raven's lap. The blonde shot her a saucy smile and held it to her chest, all but bursting with delight at the chance to see more of Fern's skin.

"I mean what I said," The girl replied stiffly. She rolled up the sleeve of her black long sleeve t-shirt and tilted her arm toward the ceiling lights to show them the various scales along the outside of her forearm. They were darker than the rest of her ashy grey skin, more of a charcoal color. She pointed out some of the blockier ones, the ones that rose slightly above the rest. "They're parotid glands-"

"You're poisonous?" Hank blinked with surprise and reached for her arm. "How long have you known?"

Fern smacked his hand away with a scowl.

He looked a bit hurt, then a bit irritated, but shrugged it off as curiosity got the better of him. Excitement palpable in his voice, he leaned a bit closer to get a better look at her exposed skin as he asked, "And are those triangular glands osteoderms?!"

"Yes," was the girl's stilted response.

"What the hell does that mean?" Alex snapped at them. He hated feeling stupid.

Hank rolled his eyes. Voice purposely slow and condescending, he explained, "It means she can regulate her body temperature."

"And they are so pretty when they catch the light," Raven gushed, much to Fern's embarrassment.

Her skin rippled (going from a concrete grey to an ink black for barely a second) as she glared at her, but Sean's voice cut her off before she could properly reprimand her friend. "Woah, how'd you do that?"

"Do what?" Fern asked with an arched brow. It was slightly hard to tell where her brows began and ended given her scales, but the young man caught the expression with ease.

The redhead faltered as his cheeks began to flush.

At his mildly panicked expression, she shook her head. "I'm just messing with you. It does it on its own."

"Oh." Sean relaxed. "Well, it's still cool."

"Glad I have your approval," Fern told him stoically as she pulled off her gloves. All but throwing them at him, she ordered, "Hold these."

Sean grinned and fanned himself with the leather gloves as she moved to take her shoes off.

Alex leaned forward with a hint of fascination, or maybe disgust, in his voice as he asked, "Oh, god, don't tell me you've got freak feet too?"

"I have amazing feet," Fern told him firmly. Channeling the confidence her mother had tried so hard to instill, she squared her shoulders and glared at him. "My feet can do amazing things and look good in heels, so you can just shut your mouth, you hooligan."

While Raven let out a shocked laugh, Darwin clapped. "You tell 'em, Fern."

Alex shot his friend a frown, but said nothing as the grey girl walked over to the window on the opposite end of the room. It was thankfully still intact and would suit her needs just fine; the last thing she wanted to do was get footprints all over the wall. The glass could be easily cleaned, the walls- not so much. With a glance back at the others, she was a bit embarrassed to find them all staring at her with the same giddiness she had felt watching the others. Fern righted her baseball cap and planted her right foot on the glass. Her left foot soon joined its twin and with ease she walked up the wall, her body completely horizontal and without a hint of strain in any of her muscles.

"Ta da," the grey girl said sarcastically. "It's not exactly statue burning or flying, but I get by."

Angel hopped off the couch. Skipping over to Fern, she ducked under the girl's back. She went to give her a light push, but the young woman tilted away from her with ease, spinning to have her back pressed against the glass, the bottom of her feet still pressed against the glass and holding most of her weight. When the shorter brunette kept staring, searching out her poisonous scales and scutes with her eyes, Fern hopped away from the glass and went back to her seat. Tugging her sleeve back down, she snatched the gloves from Sean's hands before she took a seat beside Raven.

The blonde bumped their shoulders together and offered Fern back her coat.

"Can I touch them?" Angel asked as she reached out. "Your scales I mean?"

"That's probably not the best idea. They can get kind of iffy when I'm embarrassed."

"Aw, Fern, don't be embarrassed." Raven bumped her shoulder again. "We're all friends here."

"We're not friends," Fern told the blonde with a crooked grin. "I don't even like you, Darkholme."

Raven stuck her tongue out at her and offered her arm to Angel, who was pouting slightly from her place beside Alex's chair. Tan skin turning an ashy grey, Raven smirked as the same blocky scales pressed out of the outside of her forearms. "Here. You can touch me. I can't poison you."

"Now you're just showing off," Fern teased good naturedly as Angel ran her fingertips over Raven's mock of her skin.

The petite brunette smiled approvingly. "Awesome."

"What should we call you?" Darwin asked her, ignoring the slightly embarrassed quiver in the girl's features.

After a moment of thinking, Fern nodded as she remembered what Dr. Casten had told her once. "Cane."

"Cane?" Alex repeated with a tilt of his head. "As in coke or as in like, caning?"

"As in the toad."

The blond arched a brow. Reaching to take his Coke off the table, he asked, "Why not just call yourself Toad?"

"Toads aren't sexy," Raven told him with a hint of a pout. Her pout shifted to Fern. "You should have a sexy name. Everyone else has one."

"Hey, just because I didn't spend the flight over here thinking it up doesn't mean my name is bad," Fern told her with a hint of indignity.

"I like it," Sean cut in. As tempting as it was to let the two of them escalate into a cat fight, he was having fun and didn't want anyone to put a damper on the good mood. "What should we call Charles? Or Erik, oh god, let's give Erik one."

The girls chuckled as Darwin agreed, "The guy could certainly use some levity in his life."

When Raven looked away, Fern carefully bumped her shoulder with her own. They shared a smile and all was forgiven between the two.


	9. Barriers

Naturally, it didn't take the kids long to get a little wild. They were excited to be able to cut loose and show off their mutations. Couches were pushed aside, music was cranked and someone (most likely Sean) had managed to find a bottle of scotch hidden behind the bars. With their glasses filled, the group of mutants no longer felt any semblance of self-consciousness.

From the safety of the pinball machine, Fern watched as the other girls danced around, Angel's wings fluttering as Raven bounced around the couch. They had made some cursory attempts to get the young woman to join them, but Fern had waved them off.

When Darwin had called her over to try and break a chair off his shielded back, she politely declined. Ignoring their taunts of being a wet blanket, Fern merely stretched out on the glass cover of the pinball machine. Baseball cap covering most of her face, she clenched her jaw and tried to breathe through the pain in her chest. The tenser bandage was chaffing and too tight, making each inhale difficult. Thankfully, she was far enough away that no one could see the slight shake of her hands.

Vaguely, she wondered if she would be able to sneak away from the group without drawing any attention to herself. Just for a few minutes, so she could change and check herself over; she had never been bound for so long before. She was used to hour long intervals with the wrap, not six. Fern took a sip of her scotch and soda. A smirk drifted over her scaleless lips as Hank made an attempt to walk across the ceiling.

He waved her over and she mockingly twiddled her fingers back as he called, "Show me how you did it!"

"It's not gonna work for you," She warned him, slowly easing off her glass sanctuary.

Each movement rattled her bandaged chest, but she kept her features schooled in a mask of cool indifference. Adjusting her hat, she moved over to where Hank was hanging from the ceiling fan. She eyed his feet with interest, but didn't get too close; the scientist didn't seem to be holding his alcohol that well and while he was rather lanky, Fern was pretty sure it would still hurt if he fell and nailed her with one of his bony elbows.

Behind them, the jukebox switched from Rosemary Clooney's Mambo Italiano to Freddy Cannon's Way Down Yonder in New Orleans. Hank seemed to notice the change in tempo and began to sway to it, much to the exasperation of the young woman below him.

The brunette shook her head. "You just don't got the feet for it."

Hank scowled, swaying dangerously as his long, fingerlike toes flexed around the ceiling fan. "If you can do it so can I!"

"That's not what I'm saying." Fern took another sip of her drink, wincing slightly as it went down. "You're just not made for-"

"Maybe he just needs a running start," Alex offered, spinning the chair he had been ready to hit Darwin with in his hands with a smirk.

"Right- Newton's first law!" Hank told them with a boyish grin. When one of his feet slipped, the woman backed off, even though he caught himself before he could fall. "Things in motion stay in motion!"

Fern shook her head and handed her glass off to Alex. "I can't watch this. I'm going to the bathroom."

"I'll join you." Darwin nodded toward the door. "I wouldn't mind stretching my legs anyhow."

Angel fluttered to the ground. Fixing her long black hair, she asked, "You want us to come with you?"

Fern arched a brow, looking between them curiously as Sean and Raven tried to convince Hank not to do something stupid, like say, try to run across the goddamn ceiling. With a hint of sarcasm, the grey girl asked, "You guys know I'm house trained right? I might be from the boondocks but I know how to use a toilet."

Darwin chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Fern stiffened, but he didn't seem to mind as he told her, "We know."

Angel rolled her eyes at the girl's tone, but merely went back to dancing as the two left the room. The last thing they heard before the door closed was Alex telling Hank to stop being such a pussy.

Darwin shook his head and let his hand fall from her shoulder. "That boy-"

A crash interrupted him, but neither turned back to investigate.

"Has some serious self-esteem issues," He finished.

"You mean Hank or Alex?"

"Well, both, I guess, but I was talking about Alex." Darwin offered her a wide smile. It faltered slightly as he noticed how she seemed to be holding herself; her posture was rigid and her features tense, her gloved hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"Hm?" Fern glanced at him and shook her head. "No."

"You sure?"

She nodded firmly. "Absolutely."

The young man grinned at her. "Good. This your first time away from home?"

"Does it show?"

"A little bit…" He slipped a hand in his back pocket and winked at her. "But not much."

She tilted her head curiously. When the brim of her hat obscured her view of him, she spun it around backwards and asked, "Is it yours?"

Darwin offered her a slightly strained laugh. Rubbing the back of his neck, he told her, "Nah. I've been on my own for a while now."

"Because of your mutation?"

"Something like that." The young man swallowed, a hint of a frown on his full lips.

Knowing when to drop the subject, Fern asked him how long he had been driving a cab.

"Couple years now," He told her, a small smile tugging at his mouth.

They turned down the corridor that lead to the bathrooms. Two agents stood at the end of the hall, but the duo didn't pay them any mind.

"And you like it?" She fixed her hat.

"Sure. The pay's good, get to meet a lot of people…" He shrugged and elbowed her gently in the side. "Plus I get to choose the radio station."

"That certainly is a perk."

As they went to pass by the agents, one of them reached out to stop them. His hand hit Darwin's chest with just enough force to knock him back a step, but not enough to make his mutation activate. The man was tall and pale. Muscular under his black suit, his expression was grim as he stared down at them. "Where do you think you're going?"

Darwin glanced at the hand on his chest with a hint of irritation, but he masked it with a smile. "Little lady here's just lookin' for the bathroom."

"We don't have a bathroom for whatever that is," The agent spat, jerking his head at Fern. "Colored washrooms are downstairs."

The young woman glared at him. "I'm not black." Probably, her mind added as an afterthought. "And you should take your hand off my friend."

"I don't care what you are," The agent told her with a sneer, but dropped his hand. "I'm not sharing a bathroom with a freak like you."

Darwin took Fern's hand. "Come on, we'll use the one downstairs."

"That'd probably be the best idea," the other agent told them. He was shorter and clearly the younger of the two, and his expression wasn't quite as hard. Still his words stung and Fern gently squeezed Darwin's hand before she turned away from them.

Unsurprised, but disappointed, the young women held her head high as she led her fellow mutant back down the hall. Swallowing, the young woman grit her teeth. Her sharp canines ground together and she let out a long sigh out her nose as she nudged Darwin in the side. When he glanced down at her, she warned him, "Now I'm uncomfortable."

Darwin offered her a tight smile and let go of her hand as they turned into the other hall. Wrapping his arm around her, he rubbed her shoulder. Vaguely aware that he could feel the thick skin of her glands, the young man ignored how his hand became as callous and heavy as stone. He supposed it was his body's way of protecting him against her mutation, but didn't say anything, less he embarrass her further. "Don't let them bother you. They're not worth it."

"I know." The young woman lifted an apathetic shoulder. "Doesn't make it any less annoying."

"Want me to kick their asses?"

Fern rolled her eyes, but a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "That won't be necessary."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Let's just get back to the others, okay?"

Despite her casual tone, Darwin eyed her with concern. The words the agent had upset him, so he naturally assumed she too felt the sting of them "You alright?"

"Stop asking me that, you're starting to sound like Raven."

They walked in silence a few moments before he spoke again, "You shouldn't let that guy bother you."

The woman shrugged. "I'm over it."

"He's just some narrow minded jerk," Darwin told her as they slipped back into the room.

Fern waved him off, a bit of frustration slipping into her voice as she repeated, "I said I'm over it."

"Over what?" Raven asked.

The pair looked over to the blonde, unsurprised to find her holding an ice pack to Hank's head. The table they had pushed away was now little more than a heap of wood. Alex stood beside it, looking incredibly smug as he twirled one of it's broken legs between his fingers.

Fern stared at the wreckage a long moment before shaking her head. "Don't worry about it."

"Some suits wouldn't let her use the bathroom."

Fern rounded on him. Giving Darwin a shove, she snapped, "Traitor!"

Raven looked up from where she was playing nurse. Expression surprised and a bit hurt, she gaped at them. "What?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

The others frowned, but nobody said anything as she walked over to the couch. With a hint of a smirk, Fern pointed at Hank. "Told ya so."

"No more booze," Angel told her as she reached for her discarded drink. "It gives the guys too many stupid ideas."

"Hey, I tried to talk him out of it," Sean reminded her.

Fern arched a brow as the redhead moved to grab a bottle of coke from the fridge. "You clearly did a bang up job with that, Red."

Sean feigned indignity a moment before he followed her. Hopping up to sit on the countertop of the bar, he swung his feet in front of him as he peered over her shoulder. "Well, you're the one who put the idea in his head."

Fern bristled as Angel and Raven went back to dancing. "I did not."

"Did too." He smiled and accepted the bottle of Coke she offered him. "Thanks."

Fern pulled her glove off with her teeth. When the redhead reached over to take it from her mouth, she startled, but said nothing. Just eyed him with trepidation as she flipped off the cap and listened as he went on.

"Yup. It was all you and Alex," Sean told her, dropping her leather glove beside him as he went on, "And then you and Darwin left me and Raven to pick up the mess you made. Real nice, Cane."

The young woman rolled her eyes and jumped up to join him on the counter. The movement was graceful, but she landed hard when her breath caught in her throat. Chest burning, she ignored the ripple of her skin and forced herself to man up. Looking weak in front of the others wasn't on her agenda. This in mind, she made a show of leaning back to look around him at the busted remains of the table. "Looks like you did a bang up job, there, Banshee."

He shrugged, gangly shoulders rising and falling nonchalantly.

It struck Fern that the boy was incredibly skinny, scrawny even and it unsettled her slightly. Without a word, she flipped the lid off his Coke and the two shared a smirk as it clattered to the floor. Lifting the bottle to his lips, he elbowed her playfully in the side. "Now who's making a mess, Fe?"

The grey skinned girl shook her head and reached for her glove.

Sean held her drink as she moved to put it back on. He watched with a hint of a frown on his lips before asking why she wore them. "I mean," the young man added as an afterthought, "I get that you like to cover up," he gestured to her outfit with two fingers in a manner that was neither critical nor disapproving, something she appreciated as he went on, "but your hands? Seriously? I mean, they could kind pass for gloves on their own, couldn't they?"

Fern lifted her bare hand and twiddled her fingers. "It's just easier. My fingertips have these things called setae on them. They're like little hairs that stick to things."

To prove her point, she placed the tip of her index finger on the side of his bottle and pulled it back. Sean grinned as it stuck to her skin, but he didn't let go.

"When I bend them one way, they stick," The young woman explained, ignoring the redhead's gaze. "When I bend them the other…"

The bottle broke away from her skin. Peering into the bottle with one eye, he asked, "So you keep the gloves on because it's easier than monitoring your skin all the time?"

Fern blinked with surprise. A smile blossomed over her features, flashing sharp teeth that he paid no mind to as he met her a gaze. She nodded. "Exactly."

Sean took a sip of his Coke as Alex approached them. He gave the young woman a wide berth. Noticing his discomfort, Fern tucked her legs up to give him more room and ignored the sharp pain when her knees grazed her breasts. The blond snagged a bottle of soda from the fridge and leaned back against the wall.

"So, what are you anyway?" He asked, eying the brunette's tight posture with distaste.

When the two just stared at him, Alex waved a hand in front of his face. "Like, racially."

"Oh." Fern shrugged flamboyantly. "No idea."

The blond looked like he wanted to comment on that, but Darwin beat him to it. "Will you three please get over here? It's gettin' a little boring being all over here by myself."

Rolling their eyes at him, the trio moved over to where Hank was nervously holding a chair. The lanky man held it in front of him, cringing slightly; whether it was from the pain in his head, the noise from the jukebox or the prospect of hitting Darwin in the back with a metal chair, Fern didn't know. Nor did she care. Regardless, she felt a smirk twitch at her lips as Alex reached out to take it from him.

"Stand back, McCoy," the blond warned him. "Let the real men show you how it's done."

Sean looked around in a manner similar to how Fern had earlier. "And when are these real men arriving exactly?"

"Shut up, Sean." Alex glared at him before he swung the chair at Armando.

The group shared a laugh as the man's back grew into stone and the force of Alex's strike sent the blond tumbling to the floor.


	10. Making Nice With The Other Kids

It didn't take much to get the festivities back in full swing. Or even to get Hank back on the ceiling fan. Spirits were easily lifted and although it was clear the choice to switch to soda was the right one, the mood was light and fun.

After a few disastrous attempts at beating Darwin with a chair, Fern was once again laid out on the pinball machine. Admittedly, most of her attention was on the boys. They were kind of hard to ignore, with Sean making a show of skidding across the floor and Darwin's playful taunting. Even Alex was smiling and Fern wondered how long it would be before she could bow out and go to bed. Still, she didn't want to dampen the mood, so she kept grinning and applauding as Sean hit Darwin so hard the chair was knocked from his freckled hands.

"What are you doing?!" A sharp voice interrupted her thoughts and the young woman jerked.

A sharp pain shot through her bust and Fern bared her teeth instinctually as her gaze whipped toward the shattered window. The jovial air depleted around the group as they realized they were being watched. Hank fell off the ceiling fan to land gracefully on his feet. Angel twiddled down to the floor. Darwin's rock-like skin retreated back into his body while Alex and Sean shared a nervous glance.

To her surprise, a petite brunette stood in the courtyard, flanked by Charles and Erik. While the latter looked unimpressed, Charles looked irritated and of course, the woman was irate. She pointed behind her, "Who destroyed the statue?"

"It was Alex!" Hank told her. He ignored Alex's affronted glare as he adjusted his glasses.

Angel giggled, but sobered as the blonde beside her spoke.

Raven was quick to correct him, "No- Havok. We have to call him Havok, that's his name now," as she stepped forward.

The young woman approached the window, either unaware of the looks of disbelief she was receiving from the others, or perhaps just ignoring them. "And we were thinking, you should be Professor X," she told Charles, pointing at him in a manner that suggested she didn't notice his scowl. Her hand moved to Erik as she finished, "And you should be Magneto."

"Exceptional," Erik replied with a hint of sarcasm. He shook his head and walked off, the brunette woman following close at his heels.

Charles shook his head with disappointment. Gaze locked with the blonde's, he told her; "I expect more from you."

Raven's expression fell as he walked off.

Alex spun the table leg in his hands. "Maybe we should call him Professor Killjoy instead."

Sean glared at him, but said nothing as Darwin cleared his throat. He touched Raven's shoulder delicately and offered a weak smile when her teary eyes met his. "Maybe we should turn in."

"I've got to go after him-"

"Let him cool down first," The taller man suggested. "Things'll look better in the morning."

"Sounds good to me." Fern hopped off the pinball machine. Striding over to the door, she didn't bother to wait for the others or to stop and console the blonde. Darwin was doing a fine job and she was sure if he failed, Hank would step in. Someone would, anyway.

To her surprise, Angel fell in step with her almost immediately. She arched a near invisible brow, but said nothing as the petite brunette smirked up at her. Just mirrored her expression and stuck her hands in her pockets.

"So what went down with those guards?"

"Apparently segregation is alive and well in Virginia," Fern replied with a sneer that flashed both sharp canines and bicuspids. "And they don't know where to stick me."

Angel's features darkened. "I guess they don't have mutant bathrooms set up yet, huh?"

"Nope."

"Like I didn't have enough trouble being black and female." The shorter girl huffed as they approached their room. "Now I can add freak to the list, huh?"

Fern just lifted a shoulder. The action pulled at her bandages and she fought a cringe as they slipped into the room they had been assigned.

Angel flew up to the top bunk with ease as Fern moved to the adjacent bed. Pulling her backpack into her lap, the former dancer kept her eyes on her bunkmate. As Fern stripped out of her jacket and top, Angel's thick brows perked up in surprise.

"You bind your chest?" She asked.

Fern sighed with relief as she undid the tensor bandages. Slowly inhaling, she answered with a weak, "Only around strangers."

Reaching down to unzip her boots, Angel tilted her head. "How come?"

"People hassle me less when they think I'm a boy." The taller brunette tilted away from Angel's curious gaze. She hated being gawked at and while the other mutant didn't seem frightened or unsettled, Fern still didn't appreciate how intently she was being watched. Vaguely, she hoped Angel wouldn't notice the notch of scale free skin on her side. Ignoring how her scales rippled as circulation came back into her chest, Fern yanked a sweatshirt back over her head. Her breasts tingled in a way that reminded her of static on the radio, her nerves slowly waking from being asleep for so long.

"Really? You get harassed?" Angel stripped out of her halter top and pulled her nightshirt over her head. "Even though you're…?"

"Abnormal looking?" Fern offered as she stood. She undid her belt and slipped out of her jeans. Every movement jarred her chest and she became acutely aware of how chafed her skin was; around the top of her bust and underarms, along the top of her ribs, thick harsh strips of skin that were raw and bruised. They would take a while to heal, she knew. Surface injuries always took the longest. Cuts could be healed in a matter of hours, if not minutes, depending on their severity; but bruises? Bruises took days, sometimes weeks; although she wasn't sure why.

Angel offered her a sheepish smirk. "Yeah."

"I do." Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, she shrugged with a hint of frustration. "I'm pretty sure guys would harass a cardboard box so long as it had a set of tits."

The shorter brunette smile turned bitter from the upper bunk. "I hear that."

As she dropped down on her mattress, Fern asked how long they had to wait for Raven before they were allowed to go to sleep.

"Long day, huh?" Angel asked with a sympathetic simper.

Fern only offering a stilted quirk of her lips in reply.

"Go ahead. I'll tell Mystique you tried your best to stay awake but couldn't swing it."

"Thanks."

"Not a problem," The petite brunette told her with a smile. As she pulled the latest issue of Ramparts from her backpack, she added, "So long as you don't mind the light staying on."

Fern waved a hand and pulled her blanket over her head. "Won't bother me none."

There wasn't so much as another word between the two. Only a dim light shone through the young mutant's blanket and for that she was grateful. Her back ached, but she didn't dare roll on to her stomach, not with how painfully her bust throbbed. Still, she was breathing easier now. Closing her eyes, Fern sighed. The air under the blanket quickly became humid, but she didn't terribly mind.

In truth, she'd much rather have been at home. Away from the judgmental agents and their harsh words, away from the unfamiliar bed and unfamiliar people. She supposed they weren't all bad; recalling how Darwin had defended her and how Sean had smiled when she pulled the coke bottle, brought a small smirk to her lips, but the young woman would have rather have been at home. With her dog and her bed and her lake and her mother. Especially her mother. The membrane flickered over her eyes as her throat tightened, but she didn't make a sound.

The door to their room opened, but Fern didn't move.

Raven's gentle voice rang with annoyance as she asked, "She's in bed already?"

"She tried to stay up, but someone's sulking went on too long," Angel told her with a hint of mirth.

"I wasn't sulking."

"Pouting then, whatever."

Fern rolled her eyes at their banter and rolled onto her side. A sharp pain echoed through her ribs, but she ignored it. Her bright eyes stared at the wall only a few moments before she fell asleep.

In the room across from them, the young men were also settling down to go to sleep. With Sean in the top bunk above Hank and Darwin above Alex, the redhead seemed content to fill the silence with casual conversation while the others undressed.

"So," Sean pulled off his red button up as he grinned, "I guess the mutant thing explains why we're all gorgeous."

Darwin chuckled as Alex scoffed. The blond shook his head, "Yeah. Big Foot and Frog Girl, real sexy."

Sean threw his shirt at him. "Hey! Fern's just…a different breed of fox."

"Exactly." Darwin agreed, giving Alex a playful shove. "We can't all be blond haired and blue eyed, Summers."

Alex rolled his eyes and tossed Sean's shirt to the floor. The redhead didn't bother to pick it up as he flopped down on the bed. "Her skin is like a kaleidoscope, how can you not be into that?"

At his snort, Sean quickly directed his attention to the bespectacled man in front of his bunk. "And don't think I've forgotten about you, Hank!"

"Please, leave me out of this." Hank blushed. He really didn't feel like being compared to the biggest freak in the group; he didn't think his ego could handle it.

Sean completely ignored him. "You've got that whole Buddy Holly thing going on. It's works for you."

"Cassidy," Alex cut in sternly. He had slipped into the bottom bunk and was already under the blanket. "Shut up."

"You shut up! Don't act like you're not totally stoked to be here, Summers. The hard ass act isn't fooling anyone."

The blond groaned and yanked the blanket over his head. "Go to sleep."

"You go to sleep!" Sean snapped back at him, tone playful as Darwin turned off the light.

"I'm trying to go to sleep, Sean! Shut up!"

When Fern woke up the next morning, it was to Raven babbling excitedly. Fern groaned and yanked her blanket over her head as the blonde hovered over her bed.

"Come on, Fern, time for breakfast!"

"I'm not hungry."

Raven gave the brunette's covered shoulder a shove. "Too bad, get dressed."

The Ailey girl growled but sat up. Her chest still ached, but she ignored it as she stretched out to touch her toes. She then slipped off the bed and rose her arms above her head, cracking her back and giving her limbs a moment to wake up as she listened to Angel mutter under her breath.

"I can't believe you would wake us up this early…" The petite woman on the upper bunk grumbled. "You can't be that desperate to see your little boyfriend, can you?"

Raven glanced at her from where she was carefully laying out her outfit on her mattress. Eyes sharp, she snapped, "What was that?"

"Nothing," Angel said a bit bitterly as she flopped back on to her bed.

Turning her back to the others, the young Ailey eased her sweatshirt off her shoulders. Her chest was still a bit sore, but nothing she couldn't handle. The line of chafed skin still circled her bust and her breasts were clearly bruised. To an outside party, it probably wouldn't have been noticeable, but Fern knew. Even if she hadn't been able to feel the subtle throb of pain she would've known simply from the dullness to her usually lustrous skin.

Raven cleared her throat behind her. At Angel's insisting hand gesture, the blonde asked, "So…Angel says you bind your chest?"

Fern rolled her eyes. Shifting her body away from them, she reached for her bag. A frown tugged at her lips as she pulled out the tensor bandage. She had never had to bind two days in a row before. As she began to wrap it around her upper ribs, the grey girl replied with a stiff, "Yep."

Behind her back, Angel and Raven shared a glance. The blonde stepped forward, clearing her throat as she took a seat next on Fern's bed. "You don't need to do that. It's just us."

The brunette mutant didn't acknowledge her. Just kept calmly working the bandage around her breasts. She didn't so much as look at Raven; it was best she ignore her.

"You know no one's going to bother you here, right?"

At the blonde's soft tone and sad smile, irritation rose in the grey girl. She found them patronizing. The idea of Raven telling Fern to be herself while she sat there disguising her natural blue skin was laughable. The brunette didn't blame her for it, it was just an odd sentiment all things considered.

Tucking the edge of her bandage in, she lifted her blue eyes to Raven's. Keeping her features schooled in a mask of false pleasantness, she asked, "What's for breakfast?"

The blonde offered her a weak smirk before she patted her leg and stood.

"Well, if you hurried up," Angel cut in with an impish grin. "We'd be able to find out for ourselves, wouldn't we?"

With a roll of her eyes, Fern quickly pulled on a white tunic and jeans. Tugging her cowboy boots on, she nodded for them to go on without her. After a moment of contemplation (and a moment to psyche herself up emotionally), she followed the girls to the bathroom with her toothbrush in hand.

While Angel and Raven discussed what it was they were expected to do with Charles and Erik out of the country, Fern brushed her teeth and tied her hair back in two tight braids along the sides of her head. In all honesty, she didn't particularly care that the men had left the country; she was more bothered by the fact that they had not only not told them personally of their departure (they had left that up to Raven), they had gone back on their promise to help them manage their mutations.

They were still talking when she left the bathroom. Sliding her gloves out of her front pocket and her toothbrush into it, she kept her head down as she passed a few agents. They didn't give her any trouble, but their mere presence was enough to make her a little jittery. Gloves on, she darted into the same rec. room the mutants had been granted access to the night before.

Hank and Darwin looked up from the spread of food that lined the bar.

She nodded to them with a brisk, "Morning," before she moved to sit on the couch.

"Aren't you gonna eat?"

Fern pursed her lips. With a hint of anxiety, she asked who had prepared it. Hank and Darwin shared a glance before the former told her it had been delivered by the agents.

The grey girl shook her head. Stomach in knots, she told them, "I'm fine."

The young men shared a glance, but neither said anything. Instead, they simply filled their plates and joined her on the couch. Well, Darwin did. Hank opted to sit in one of the chairs across from her.

"So, Miss Ailey," Hank started, adjusting the plate in his lap absently. "How'd you sleep?"

Leaning back, she stretched a leg out onto the table in front of her. "Fine."

"The girls didn't keep you up all night with their gossiping?" Darwin asked, gently nudging her in the side as he bit into a piece of sausage.

Her tensor bandage rubbed against her chafed skin. "Not really."

"Sean kept us up half the night." Hank explained with a shake of his head. "The boy likes to talk."

The young man beside Fern waved his hand. "I think he was just excited."

"I'm not saying I blame him, it's amazing, so many mutants in one place." Hank fixed his glasses. He cast the grey skinned woman a glance. "If you don't mind, Miss Ailey-"

With a chuckle, Darwin interrupted him. "Why do you keep calling her that?"

"She doesn't like it when I call her Fern."

"Why not?"

"I don't know." The men looked at the woman expectantly.

"I don't trust doctors," Fern replied with a shrug. "They're cagey. What were you saying, McCoy?"

Deciding to be frank and not cagey, he answered with an honest, "I want your blood."

Fern and Darwin both stared at him a long moment before the young woman stood. Clapping her hands together, she bowed slightly. "And I think we're done here. Darwin, so nice to meet you. McCoy, feel free to tell the others I'll be waiting in Blake's office for my ride if they need me."

Darwin caught her sleeve and pulled her back on to the couch. "I'm sure he didn't mean it. You were kidding, right?"

"Um, no? I'd love to get a blood sample from her." Hank shifted a bit closer to the couch. When Fern subtly angled away from him, the young scientist frowned. Looking around her, he told Darwin, "Her mutation is so fantastic I have to wonder if her genome is different from ours."

"Ours?" Armando and Fern echoed at him as Sean and Alex slipped inside.

"Charles, Erik and Raven have already given me a sample," Hank explained. "And of course I have my own. I was hoping to get a sample from everyone today."

Fern visibly bristled as the other boys joined them, plates stacked high with food and their hair still mussed from sleep. The grey girl ignored them as she bared her teeth at Hank. "They promised we wouldn't be lab rats."

"You're not! You won't be. We wouldn't even have to go near my lab, I promise. We could do it in here."

"Come on, Ailey," Darwin elbowed her with care as he set his empty plate on the table. "It could be a chance to get to know one another."

"What could?" Sean asked before he took a sip of his orange juice. He frowned at the sight of Fern's empty lap. "Why aren't you eating?"

"Because who knows what they did to it."

"Oh my god." Alex shook his head as he loaded some scrambled eggs onto piece of toast. "Are you always this paranoid?"

"Are you always this trusting?" She snapped at him.

"Wait-" Darwin held his hand out, clearly appalled as he realized, "if you thought it was poisoned why would you let us eat it?!"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "You're my test subjects."

"Fern!"

"What?!"

Sean chuckled at Darwin's appalled expression and shook his head.

Behind him, the other girls slipped into the room. They quickly bid the group good morning and went straight to the food. Fern shook her head in distaste.

"Well…" Hank cleared his throat and set his empty plate on the table. "Since we're all here, why don't we get to know each other a little better?" He looked to Sean (who seemed to be the most amicable of the group, except, of course, for Raven) and asked, "You're from Ireland originally?"

The redhead blinked in surprise, but nodded none the less. "Yeah. My family immigrated to Texas when I was four." His bony shoulders bobbed casually. "We've been here ever since."

As Raven took a seat beside Alex and Angel slipped into the empty seat beside Fern, the Ailey girl asked, "Do you remember any of the trip?"

"Nah," Sean lied. Some of Sean's earliest memories came from the boat trip over. He remembered being cramped between his older siblings, remembered the sound of his baby sister crying and worse the sound of her coughing. He remembered the taste of stale air and being hushed when his stomach hurt- but he never told anyone about that. He didn't see the point in burdening someone else with something they couldn't change so he kept it to himself.

Taking a sip of his juice, he kept quiet as Hank redirected his attention to Fern. "And Charles said you're adopted?"

"Charles needs to learn to keep his damn mouth shut," Alex said with a scowl. "How much did he tell you exactly?"

Hank blushed. At his silence, the blond man shook his head. "It's none of our business if she's adopted, or if Sean's an immigrant-"

"Or why Alex was in prison," Fern added. Her tone firm, she told Hank, "You're supposed to earn information like that; not steal it."

"That's a little dramatic," Raven cut in. With a frown, she said, "Charles wasn't trying to invade anyone's privacy."

"So he went through our heads and told a total stranger our personal business, why?" Angel asked sarcastically. Flipping her dark hair over her shoulder, she told the blonde, "I know he's your brother, but the guy clearly has boundary issues."

"I still like him better than Erik," Sean cut in. The air was getting a little too tense for him, and while he agreed with Angel's sentiment, he didn't want the group to argue. "The guy seems a little…"

"Obsessive," Fern offered. "With his mutation. With ours."

The redhead pointed his fork at her. "Exactly."

"He's just passionate," Raven told them with a hint of irritation. Fiddling with her fork, she bit her tongue as Fern pressed on.

"I don't like it." The Ailey girl pursed her lips. "He's creepy."

Raven scoffed and rolled her eyes at the grey skinned brunette. "You don't like anything."

Fern conceded with pursed lips and a nod. "True."

Hank cleared his throat. "So, when did everyone's mutations manifest? Alex?"

"I don't know," Alex shoved a bit of bacon in his mouth. Thinking over what he wanted to say, and whether or not he wanted to lie, the blond finally settled on the truth with a bob of his shoulders. "When I was twelve or so?"

"Interesting. Sean?"

"I was eleven. My older brother jumped out of a closet to scare me and I broke the window." The redhead grinned impishly. "Had to tell mom we were fighting to cover it up."

Fern blinked in surprise. "Your parents don't know?"

"Of course not! Are you kidding?! My parents are devout Catholics," Sean explained. "They wouldn't take too kindly to me being…different."

"Really? Huh." The Ailey girl thought back to her brief time at the convent. None of the nuns had ever given her mutation a second thought, at least as far back as she could remember.

Sean eyed her curious features with interest a moment, but said nothing.

"How about you then?" Angel asked, kicking her foot up on the table beside Fern's. Giving the other girl's cowboy boot covered toes a nudge with her bare ones, she asked, "When did you get all…you know."

"I was born like this," Fern replied casually. Her gaze shifted to Raven. "How about you?"

The blonde shook her head and dropped her gaze to her plate. Pushing her eggs around with her fork, she shrugged, "I was ten. It just showed up one night."

"Really?" Hank leaned forward a touch. "It only took one night?"

Glaring at him, Raven replied, "That's what I said, didn't I?"

"Easy, Darkholme," Darwin broke in with a smile. "He didn't mean any harm." Sitting up a bit straighter, he looked at Angel. "How about you? When'd you sprout your wings?"

"Come to think of it, I was twelve too." Angel hummed and set her empty plate down beside Hank's. "Weird."

Darwin opened his mouth to reply when a knock on the door interrupted him. Blake Sullivan poked his head inside the room and smiled at the group. "Morning, folks. Everyone sleep well?"

The mutants answered agreeably and he smiled. "Glad to hear it. Fern, I was wondering if I could have a word?"

"Ooooh," Sean teased as the grey girl stood. "Someone's in trouble!"

As she passed him, Fern gave the redhead a light slap upside the head. In response, he gave her hip a light shove (even though he had to crane over the back of the couch to reach her). The brunette turned and tried to shove him back, but Sean latched onto her hands.

"Hah!" He cheered triumphantly as her gloves slipped off. Holding them above his head, Sean crowed, "Got yer gloves!"

Fern glared at him, but it was hard to stay mad when he looked so damn proud of himself. As he slid them onto his own hands, the young woman turned back to face the Agent who was smiling at her from the doorway.

Closing the door behind her, Blake teased, "Good to see your making friends."

"He is not my friend." Fern bristled as her skin flickered with embarrassment. "He is a menace to society."

Sullivan looked doubtful, but he sobered quickly. "I heard you had some trouble with a couple agents last night."

Her scales paled and she looked away from him.

"So it's true." The man sighed. Fern waited for the disappointment to come, for him to scold her for walking around the facility unaccompanied and was genuinely surprised when he put his hands on her shoulders. "If anyone bothers you again I want to hear it from you personally, understand? Not through the grapevine. This is your home, as temporary as it may be, and you have a right to feel safe here."

A smile pulled at the young woman's thin scaleless lips. She nodded. "Okay."

"Shake on it?" Agent Sullivan asked, holding his hand out with a grin.

They shook hands.

"You're a good man, Blake Sullivan," The mutant told him with a fond squeeze of his hand.

He inclined his head respectfully. "And you're a good kid, Fern Ailey." He let go of her hand and nodded toward the door. "Now go eat breakfast. I cut the pineapple myself."

"A man of many talents, I see."

Sullivan chuckled and nodded. "I get by."

"Have a good day, Agent."

"You too, Fern."

The young woman smiled at him before she slipped back into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That scene between Raven and Charles wouldn't be so hard to watch if Raven wasn't like...35.


	11. Hypocrisy, Thy Name Is Angel

"Hey."

Fern glanced up from her bowl of pineapple as Sean moved to sit on the floor beside her.

The group had migrated around the room, with the other girls fiddling with the jukebox and Alex and Darwin playing pinball. Hank had gone off to check something in the lab and the mutants were basically just waiting for Charles and Erik to return and quite frankly, give them something to do. Fern had opted to find solace behind the bar, away from Hank's prying questions and the others' less than subtle glances. She was aware the scientist had left, but she still didn't feel quite up to playing nice with the other kids. Plus, being hidden away had given her the opportunity to take off her tensor bandage and she was relishing in the small bout of privacy. Or at least she was, until Sean came along and ruined it for her. The young woman nodded to him, but didn't say anything.

Settling beside her, he crossed his long legs and Fern just knew she wasn't going to get him to go away. Not now that he was comfortable. Resisting the urge to sigh and roll her eyes, the girl merely pursed her lips.

Sean had no problem filling the silence. "You're from Tennessee, right? This must be like, familiar territory for you, huh?"

"What'd you mean?"

"I mean you live right down the street," the redhead explained. He plucked the fork from her gloved hands (she had won them back after arguing that they didn't fit him anyway) and stabbed a piece of pineapple. "I figured you've been here before, haven't you?"

Fern glared at him as he ate one of the few remaining pieces of fruit. It was in her nature to be protective of food; she had been for as long as she could remember. Josie said something about it being a side effect of having been starved before. Fern preferred to think of herself as just greedy. "No. I haven't."

"Oh. Sorry. I just- you and Raven seemed kind of… familiar with each other, so I thought…" He lifted an uncommitted shoulder and offered her a sheepish smile.

Fern's expression struggled to stay hard. It was kind of difficult to be mad at someone who seemed to be genuinely trying to make friends. Letting her mouth soften just a touch, she told him, "We bonded on the plane ride over."

He gaped at her. His thin eyebrows shot up under his shaggy bangs with surprise, then furrowed with irritation. "They gave you a plane?! We had to take a cab!"

From across the room, a playful voice scolded him, "Watch it, Cassidy."

"And what a lovely cab ride it was, Armando!" Sean hopped up to look over the bar. Beaming widely, he called, "I was just singing your praises to the lovely lady, wasn't I, Fe?"

The brunette shook her head. "Not really."

Sean dropped back beside her and gave her shoulder a light shove. When she reached for her fork, he handed it back without complaint. They sat in silence a moment before the young man spoke again, "Seriously. I mean the company was good, but goddamn was it a long ride."

"You're from Texas?" Fern tilted her head and popped a piece of pineapple into her mouth. Then another when she considered that she may be forced to share.

"Well, my family's there, but I've been studying in Georgia."

The young woman nodded and resisted the urge to slap his hand away when he reached for her fork again. Rolling her eyes, she asked if he enjoyed school as the redhead stole another piece of fruit from her bowl.

"It's alright."

"You're studying art, right?"

"Mhm," Sean nodded with a smile. His cheeks going a bit red from the combination of the expression and the sweet tang of the fruit, he rubbed his left one with the heel of his hand.

"Yeah. I mean, I can't draw for shit, but I appreciate those who can."

Fern lifted a brow but didn't look up from the bowl. Still completely and utterly disinterested, she let out a bland, "Huh."

"How about you? What do you do?"

The brunette's voice grew cold as she answered bluntly, "I stay home and try not to get my house burned down by bigots."

Sean's brows rose and his cheeks colored once more; this time from embarrassment. "Oh, right, I kind of forgot about the whole…" He waved his hand in front of his face with a grimace that had nothing to do with her appearance and everything to do with his lack of tact. "I guess you probably don't get out much, huh?"

Fern stared at him a long moment. He forgot? How the hell could he forget? At her staring, Sean's pale features managed to get red enough to rival his hair before she shook her head. With a blink, she looked down at her bowl. "Uh, no. Not really. I mean, my aunt lets me check out her restaurant sometimes, but like, I can't go into town."

Sean eyed her intently a moment. It was hard to read her expression, her scales shifting and twinkling even in the dim light under the bar. "Not without trouble, huh?"

She nodded and pursed her lips. The membrane flickered over her eyes and a familiar burn pulled at her throat. It amazed her that something as simple as an understanding tone from a boy she barely knew could pull that kind of reaction from her, but she said nothing as Sean went on.

"Does, I mean…" The redhead faltered a bit, eying her with a hint of trepidation. "Was last night kind of a common occurrence for you?"

Fern didn't say anything. Just made a point of eating another piece of pineapple and not looking at him.

Message received, the redhead nodded. The two sat in silence a few moments, listening to the pinball machine ping over Chubby Checker's The Twist. It didn't last and Sean broke the quiet between them with an obvious question. "So, why are you back here anyway?"

"I don't know." Fern shrugged. Her blue eyes flitted over to the redhead's open features and she relented. There was no harm in telling the truth, the young woman supposed. "I'm not used to being around so many people. Makes me feel…"

"Overstimulated?"

She shifted with discomfort. Skin rippling from a dark grey to an ashy hue, she lifted a shoulder. "I was gonna say weird, but yeah, that works."

Sean nodded and smacked his hands on his thighs. "Okay then. I'll leave you to it."

Fern's eyes grew as he stood. "You're not offended?"

He glanced down at her surprised expression and smiled. "Of course not. We'll be out there when you're ready to hang with the rest of us, okay?"

The young woman beamed at him. Nodding, she agreed, "Okay."

With a playful wink, Sean bowed out from behind the bar.

Fern watched him go with a small smile on her lips. Fiddling with the sleeves of her white tunic, she leaned back against the bar. For a few hours, the grey girl contented herself with listening to the pinball machine ping and the radio. After deciding that she had isolated herself long enough, Fern tightened her braids and made her way out to join the others.

Alex and Armando were still playing pinball, but Hank had returned. He was seated beside Sean, across from Angel and Raven. It was the blonde who noticed her reappearance first.

"Hey!" Raven beamed at Fern and patted the seat next to her on the couch. "Come sit with us!"

"Three to a couch is too many," Fern told her as she flopped into the chair beside Sean.

The blonde rolled her eyes, but the smile remained on her lips. "Well, glad to see you've come out of your hovel."

The Ailey smirked at her and inclined her head with a hint of sarcasm. "Thanks."

From the couch, the boys shared a smirk. Popping another Oreo in his mouth, Sean took the package and offered it to Fern.

Angel turned to the young woman beside her. Brushing a strand of her black hair behind her ear, she asked, "When do you think Charles will be back?"

Fern wrinkled her nose at the boy and politely shook her head.

"I think they're due back in the morning," Raven answered, lifting the mug of tea to her lips.

Sean pursed his lips. Jabbing the package in Fern's direction, he made a point of chewing extra slowly as he frowned at her.

"Wow, that soon?" Hank's brows rose. Pointedly ignoring the couple beside him, he pushed his glasses up. "You must be excited to see him; you two made up, right?"

Raven's gaze flickered over to the redhead and the grey girl as they silently bickered. After staring at them a long moment with a hint of judgement, she looked back to find Hank looking at her expectantly. "Mhm."

Shaking the bag, Sean ignored the conversation going on around them. When Fern rolled her eyes at him, he shook it more violently. Frowning, he demanded, "Take one."

"No."

"Take one!"

"Oh my god, fine!" Snatching a cookie from the package, Fern glared at him. As she waved it in front of his face, she snapped, "Happy?!"

Looking entirely too pleased with himself, Sean leaned back and smiled smugly. "Yes."

The girl shook her head and let out a grunt of annoyance. As she glared at the cookie, she pulled her legs up onto the seat. Fern had never actually had Oreos, or any other store bought brand of cookie before. Josie had always said if she wanted cookies, she could make them her damn self; they'd be twice as good and half the cost. Sniffing at it, she lifted the cookie to her lips and took a tentative bite. Fern cringed. It was the sweetest thing she had ever eaten and she wasn't sure she'd be able to stomach finishing it.

"Woah!" A voice cut through her thoughts and she looked to the window to find two agents peering in at them. "I didn't know the circus was in town!"

As the others glared (no doubt not used to staring or ridicule), Fern saw this as an opportunity. Thankful for the distraction, as derogatory as it may be, Fern spit the cookie into her hand and dropped the remnants behind the couch.

"Hey, honey," the agent called to Angel. "Give us a little-"

He mimed her wings and the petite brunette let out a scoff of disgust. Fern vaguely wondered how it was he knew what her specific mutation was as she wiped her gloved hand on her tunic, staining the white cotton with Oreo crumbs. Scowling, she shot a glare at Hank as he stood.

"No?" The man mocked. He looked to Hank with a cruel grin. "Let's see the foot. Come on, Big Foot, let's go."

The bespectacled man waved at them and yanked the cord that closed the drapes. When he came back to sit on the couch, Sean offered him a limp smile.

Raven's gaze stayed trained on the window a long moment. When Angel slammed her tea cup down, the blonde turned her attention to the petite brunette. "They're just guys being stupid."

"Guys being stupid I can handle, okay," Angel replied briskly. "I've been handling that my whole life, but I'd rather have guys stare at me with my clothes off than the way these ones stare at me."

"At us," Raven corrected sadly.

Fern let out a snort of laughter. Wiping af cookie crumbs from the corner of her mouth, she shook her head. "Yeah, because when they do it, it's rude. When you two do it, it's okay, right?"

Angel pursed her lips. Glaring at the grey girl, she snapped, "What's that supposed to mean? We are nothing like them."

Hank kept his head down as the girls got more vocal. Raven fiddled with the hem of her skirt, but she too couldn't find the words to speak as the Ailey girl laughed once more.

"Really, can I touch them girl? You're feeling a little objectified over your mutation?" Fern squinted at her then at Raven. Getting more heated, she felt her skin darken and twist with rage. How fucking dare they? How dare they play the victim to their mutation when they could so easily fit into society. One rude comment and Raven was misty eyed and Angel was acting like she had been personally attacked. They knew absolutely nothing about having to hide. Especially Raven. Baring her sharp, inhuman teeth, Fern rounded on the young woman, "And what the fuck do you have to complain about, blondie? You can look however you want. You're hiding right fucking now and you have the fucking gall to say that they're staring at you?!"

"Just because we're not some grey skinned freak doesn't mean we're not victimized!" Angel sneered at her, the back of her throat burning with the urge to spit.

"I know that! But you've been victimized for the past ten minutes and you're acting like a freaking martyr!" Fern laughed, cold and harsh as she stood. "You don't know anything at being stared at, Angel. None of you do."

Sean watched her go with pursed lips, but didn't get up to follow her as she stormed out of the room. He remembered what she had said about needing space and didn't want to intrude; plus, he hadn't forgotten that she could somehow put someone in a coma, and he really didn't want to mess with that.

"I can't believe she said that." Angel swallowed. Pursing her lips, she fought to keep her voice steady and keep the irritation out of it, "Just because our mutations aren't…so obvious-"

"You mean you're not a freak?" Sean asked with a hint of frustration. This was supposed to be a safe place. They were supposed to be making friends. Sure, Fern had been out of line, but there was a difference between venting frustration and purposely jabbing at something obviously touchy.

The brunette glared at him.

"That was kind of mean, Angel." Raven frowned, a hint of a blush coming to her cheeks as the brunette shifted her scowl to her.

Hurt and angry, Angel snapped, "What, you agree with her?"

"Well, no, but…it's different," the blonde explained, albeit a bit awkwardly. Lifting a shoulder, she let her eyes drop to her fiddling fingers. "When you look…different, like we do."

Angel scoffed at her. "You don't look different right now, Raven. It's not like you had to explain why you were a fourteen year old with tattoos!"

"I know." Raven bit her bottom lip, but kept her gaze down. "It's just-"

They paused as a strange sound filled the air. Darwin looked up and Alex paused. Hank and Sean shared a look as the girls frowned.

In the hall, Fern slowed her steps. Frowning, she made her way over to one of the large windows that lined the walls. Curious fingers pulled one of the curtains back and she glanced around the empty courtyard. She could see the others doing the same from the rec room and lifted a shoulder in a shrug and raised a hand to convey she had no idea what was going on as she met Raven's gaze.

Their curiosity was sated as a body crashed to the ground between them.


	12. Defense Mechanisms

Fern jerked as another body crashed to the ground. Eyes wide, she stepped back from the window as another followed suit, and then another. Vaguely, she could hear agents shouting at her, screaming for her to get back at the rec room, but her feet were rooted to the spot. Fear trickled down her spine to replace shock. Adrenaline began to pulse through her skin, sharpening her vision and sending a shock through her muscles.

Squaring her shoulders, she stripped out of her gloves. Shaky hand shoved them in her back pocket as her skin began to throb. Sticky black poison oozed out of her parotid glands. It stained her white tunic along her arms and jeans, making the material cling to her skin as she moved toward the rec room. Even the two smaller subtle glands at the hollow of her throat spit out the black goo.

Fern didn't run; she didn't want to risk colliding with anyone. The last thing they needed right now was a medical emergency. Slow and deliberate, she ignored the random screams and the odd echoing sound that seemed to accompany them. Taking deep steady breaths, the woman clenched her fists as a few agents rushed past her. Gun fire radiated throughout the courtyard and glass shattered in the distance. Screams and yelling from the group she had left behind and the woman cringed at the smell of gun smoke in the air.

Turning a corner, Fern let out a sigh of relief at the sight of men in SWAT gear and the sound of Darwin's voice.

"We can help!" The young man pleaded, trying to push past the agents. He caught sight of the grey girl and called out her name. She lifted a hand to him, but didn't move from where she was; sudden movements didn't seem like a good idea.

The SWAT team quickly rounded on her. Fern flinched at the sight of the barrel of their guns, baring sharp teeth and holding her claws at her sides.

"Easy, man, she's with us!" Darwin snapped at them, grabbing one of the agents' arms.

The men lowered their guns, or at least started to. The only warning of the explosion came from a faint light under the door before the shockwave hit. It sent both them and the mutants to the ground.

Fern stumbled, fingers sticking out to catch the wall. Some of her poison stuck to the wall as she pushed back from it. An agent reached out to grab her- whether to force her to join the group or push her back she didn't know, but backed off at the sight of her bared teeth.

"Fern!" Darwin bellowed at her. "Let's go!"

The grey girl glared at the agent before she ran to join the group in the rec room. Fern gaped at the broken window- and the tornado that raged outside it.

Angel reached out to grab her, but faltered at the sight of the dark secretions on her shirt. Staring at them, she swallowed before meeting her gaze. "Are you okay?"

Fern nodded curtly before pointing to the window. "Is that a goddamn tornado?"

The shorter brunette nodded, completely terrified. "Uh-huh."

Fern stared at her a long moment, barely reacting to the random wisps of air that moved their hair and stung their cheeks. She opened her mouth to ask how the world had gone to hell in a manner of seconds since she left the room, but she didn't get the chance as a dead body shattered the remaining bay window.

The girls jumped, backing away from it as a well-dressed man strolled in through the remains. He straightened his jacket with a smirk. He was handsome, with tanned features and black hair longer than men typically wore it- but his smug expression was hardly attractive.

"Get behind me."

Angel's gaze didn't leave the man as she whispered, "What?"

"Get. Behind. Me," Fern growled. "Don't touch me, just do as I say."

The short brunette did, joining the rest of the group. Fern kept her eyes trained on the sharply dressed stranger as she moved to help Darwin cover the others. They kept a tight circle, with Darwin manning the front and Fern the back. She didn't press as tightly to them as he did, she couldn't. Still, the young woman kept her arms outstretched in a similar manner as she stared down the strange man in the grey suit.

He met her gaze and his smirk widened as he trailed his dark eyes over her grey skin, but the stranger stayed silent.

Disturbed, Fern's hackles raised. Baring her teeth at him, she hardly noticed the other man entering through the other shattered window. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of red. Mistaking it for blood, she shot a worried glance to her left and gaped at the sight of the man before her. Dark red skin was startling enough- but the sheer size of the knife in his hands made her stomach churn. He was poised in a defensive position, appraising the group in front of him stoically.

Shock wore off quickly and she snapped her glare back to the man in front of her.

"You want the mutants- they're right through that door, just let us normal people go!" A voice called through the door. "We're not threat-"

The voice died suddenly. The only sound in the room was heavy breathing and Raven's whimpers.

Yet another well-dressed man, this one white and wearing a rather ridiculous looking helmet, slipped through the door. Fern barely spared him a glance, too busy glowering at the man in front of her as he ran a hand through his long dark hair. The grey girl barely blinked as the new comer spoke.

"Where's the telepath?"

"Not here," A heavily accented voice answered.

"Too bad. At least I can take this silly thing off." Fern watched from the corner of his eye as the white man did just that, stripping out of his helmet and fixing his hair before he spoke again. Plastering a smile on his face, the man greeted them, "Good evening. My name is Sebastian Shaw and I am not here to hurt you."

"Freeze!" An agent shouted in the distance.

"Azazel?"

The scream the agent made as the red man sliced through him made Fern cringe. The name he had given them was familiar and she remembered the debriefing Raven had given them about the mutant supremacist Charles and Erik were supposed to be going up against in Russia. Keeping a careful eye on the long haired man in front of her, she asked, "Sebastian Shaw? As in rogue Nazi Sebastian Shaw?"

"That's in the past," Shaw told her with a sharp smile. It made her a bit sick to her stomach and she glared at him as he went on, "My friends, there is a revolution coming as mankind discovers who we are and what we can do."

The grey girl rolled her eyes. Just what she needed; another Erik. Fantastic. Huffing, she ground her fangs together as he kept talking.

"Each of us has a choice; become enslaved or rise up to rule." Shaw pursed his lips as he looked to each of them, holding their gazes a moment. "Chose freely but know if you are not with us, than by definition you are against us. So you can stay and fight for the people who hate and fear you-"

"And just tried to save our lives," Fern added with a hint of frustration. Seriously, he couldn't honestly believe they would join him, did he? Did he think they would just forget the men trying to keep them safe? How long had he been working on that goddamn speech and where were the other agents?! And most importantly, where were the goddamn adults?!

Shaw chuckled harshly at her. His blue eyes were narrow as his gaze flickered over her unique features. "A naive sentiment from an uneducated little girl, I'm sure. I can tell by just looking at you, you've had your share of discord for being a mutant. Can you say with complete honesty you truly want to be under the thumb of lesser beings?"

Fern flashed a hint of fang at him with disgust. "I suppose we shouldn't be surprised the Nazi is a fan of eugenics."

Sean and Raven cringed at her tone. Why did she have to center herself out? Why couldn't she just let him give his little speech and keep her mouth shut? Raven trembled as she held herself tightly. Hank and Alex glared at the man before them, agreeing with Fern's words (although admittedly, Alex didn't know what eugenics was; but he knew the Nazis were the reason his father had come home without an arm and he wasn't going to side with one of them if his life depended on it, which it seemed as though it just might). Only Angel looked truly enrapt and the man noticed.

"A well-read little girl than." Shaw narrowed his eyes at her and looked back to the young brunette in front of him. Surely he would find some common sense there. "You can join me and live as kings and queens."

He offered his hand to her and Angel took it without a second thought.

"Angel," Raven breathed, voice filled with sad disbelief.

Sean tilted around the blonde to gape at the petite mutant. "Are you kiddin' me?"

Fern's tone was nowhere near as empathetic. Sharp and irritated, she told her, "Angel, I hate to break this to you, but if he's a Nazi you probably don't fit his ideals."

"Come on." Angel looked back to her friends. "We don't belong here and that's nothing to be ashamed of. Come on, Fern, aren't you sick of people staring at you all the time? Of being judged all the time?"

Skin continuing to twist and curl between shades of grey, the Ailey girl shook her head. "Nope! I love America! We won the war and I am not going to join up with the losers."

The redhead grit his teeth and grabbed her by the back of her tunic. Thankfully, Sean had the good sense to take hold of the area not stained by her poison. Pulling her closer to him, he hissed in her ear, "Fern, will you shut the hell up?!"

"I can't help it!" She whispered back frantically. Flexing her fingers, she angled her limbs away from him and grabbed the bottom of her shirt where he was still fucking holding it. The grey girl yanked it away from him as she scowled. "It's my defense mechanism, okay?!"

Behind them, or rather in front of them, Darwin reached out to Angel.

When he went to grab her again, Fern growled at him. The strange well-dressed man watched them with interest, but still stayed infuriatingly silent. Over her shoulder, the young woman glared at him. "Stop it! Stop touching me! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

"Me?! Am I trying to get myself killed?! Stop calling the Nazi kettle black, Ailey!" Sean snapped at her as she huffed. He watched her skin twist and change as she looked away from him, bottom lip quivering. His expression softened and he resisted the urge to touch her shoulder. The shoulders of cotton of her white tunic were coated with black slick and he instead pressed a couple careful fingers against the clean white bit of cotton on her back. Fern instantly shied away from him, but offered him a weak smile at his attempt at comfort.

Raven swallowed, forcing back the tears in her eyes as she told them, "We have to do something."

"No, we don't," Fern replied. Her skin shuddered with disgust. Voice numb, she said, "Let her go. See how far she gets with Knives McGee and the Nazi." Her gaze narrowed on the man in the gray suit, who still hadn't said so much as a word. Filled with rage and flustered by his constant eye contact, she shrieked at him, "And will you stop staring at me?!"

The man smiled with a surprising amount of genuine amusement as her scales rippled. He approached with a casual swagger. The stranger slipped past the young people and he completely ignored how Fern's hackles rose as he shot her a wink.

Sean glared at him as well and barely resisted the urge to pull her back again; she didn't seem to like that.

Filled with rage, Fern barely heard Alex and Darwin's whispering.

"Stop!" Darwin called as Shaw led Angel out the window. "I'm coming with you!"

The grey girl blinked and looked back in surprise. "What?!"

Angel beamed at him as Shaw simpered. Stepping closer, he looked Darwin up and down. "Good choice. So tell me about your mutation."

"Adapt to survive," Darwin told him with a shrug. "So I guess I'm coming with you."

With a smile, Shaw ushered him toward the others. "I like that."

Darwin went to Angel's side and was only there a moment before he called, "Alex- do it!"

Fern flinched as dark plates grew out of Darwin's back. The young man grabbed Angel and covered her as Alex shot out a circle of pure red energy in their direction. She stared in horror as Shaw reached out and caught it. He pressed the energy into a small spheroid shape. Darwin hardly noticed, already throwing a punch at the Nazi.

Shaw batted his arm away and grabbed him by the face. Sneering at the younger man, Shaw mocked him, "Adapt to this."

They disappeared, Shaw, Angel, Azazel and the man in the grey suit, as Darwin struggled before them. The group watched in horror as Darwin's skin changed from sleek chrome to a volcanic ashy texture before returning to normal. Fern beamed, but her smile fell as it cracked once more, shining an unearthly glow through the crevices before Darwin disappeared in a flash of light.

"No- No!" Alex jumped through the window, stumbling over the broken glass as he looked around. "Where is he?!"

"Alex," Raven sighed as she followed him out to the courtyard. "He's gone."

Fern followed suit, less to be supportive and more to see if there were any survivors. She had already compartmentalized that Darwin was gone and while it stung, she could deal with it later. Shoulders squared and stomach in knots, the grey girl moved toward one of the bodies. It was still. Unable to touch them, not with so much of her poison coating her hands and arms, she simply passed through the droves of bodies, calling to Hank whenever she saw so much as a twitch from any of them. Reinforcements came in the form of other agents who were quick to try and whisk the bodies away. Fern steered clear of them. She knew she made a horrific sight. Her shirt was stained and her skin rippled, flustered with stress and fear. It went completely white however, as she came across a familiar face among the bodies.

Blake Sullivan stared back at her with blank brown eyes through blood spattered glasses. He laid in a pool of blood. It stained his white button down and covered the side of his face. The young woman clenched her fists and swallowed, unable to move. Slowly, she eased down to squat beside him. There was a thin trail of blood from his mouth as well, puddling under his cheek.

Fern stared at him a long time. With Darwin, his death had been so quick- he was quite literally gone in a flash. But how long had Blake been out there? How much of Shaw's speech had he been subjected- how long had she stood by and done nothing while her friend slowly bled out?

The thin membrane flickered over her eyes as frustration and guilt burned at the back of her throat. Stepping forward, she eased the glasses from his face and slid them into her pocket before she turned and left.


	13. Quiet Time

The lock on the bathroom door was flimsy, but it would have to do. Fern shuffled over to the sink and flinched at the sight she made in the mirror. The ink of her poison was a stark contrast to the white of her tunic, making the sheer amount of it, all the more evident. Panic welled in her. It had been a while since she'd had such a severe flare up of her mutation.

Swallowing, she carefully pulled the neck hole of her tunic away from her scaled skin. The young woman cringed when it stuck to the thin glands at the hollow of her throat. The poisonous ooze had dried, embedding itself into the scales around the glands and bonding the cotton to it. It wouldn't be long before the others went looking for her, or worse, the agents did. It wouldn't do her any favor to be seen like this.

Frantic, she ignored the sting as she yanked it back. With a grimace, Fern buried her claws into the thin material and tried to tear it away from her throat. Maybe they wouldn't quarantine her if she could get rid of the evidence.

Sinking her sharp teeth into the seam that circled her neck, the mutant ignored the bitter, acidic taste of her poison as she tore the neck hole from the rest of the tunic. She spat the remains into the sink and began to pull at the bottom of the tunic. Her movements shaky and rough, she ignored the odd scale that scattered to the floor as she fought to keep quiet. Each pull of her tunic burned as if she was trying to rip the flesh from her body, but she couldn't risk being seen as a threat. Not by the government. Not by her so-called friends. Not with Shaw so close and her mother so far away.

The thin membrane flickered over her eyes as her tunic gave way. Fern sighed with relief. Quickly tearing away any bit of fabric that was so much as tinged black (by her stupid defense mechanism or by Oreos), the mutant threw the stained cotton in the sink. Bracing her hands on either side of the sink, Fern bit her lip and tried to ignore the odd trickle of blood as a few of her scales tried to heal themselves.

Her blue eyes rose to the mirror. Her skin was an inky black, making them and the intricate patterns that swirled over her flesh seem all the more startling. Her unsteady pants and wild black hair made her look like a wild animal. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and took a few deep, calming breaths. Bowing her head, Fern dug her nails into the white porcelain sink.

She thought of her mother and Bruno and her bedroom and tried to imagine being back at home. She thought of the lake and its calm, tepid waters. Of how cold it got in the winter and how it smelled. Mostly, she tried to think of anything but the ache in her body as the adrenaline waned. The soothing thoughts didn't work; not with the sound of agents rushing around the other side of the bathroom door.

Slowly, the young woman peeked her eyes open. Her scaled hands were no longer quite so dark. Her skin flickered in an anxious, intricate manner she was familiar with and Fern let out a sigh of relief. Her body understood what her mind was unable to comprehend; the danger was gone, at least for now, and with her stress levels slowly going down, her glands had stopped pulsing. Stopped preparing themselves for the next fight.

Tentatively, she touched the two at the base of her throat. They were a bit rougher than usual, but dry and still. A good sign. She eased away from the sink and gathered some paper towels from the dispenser. She wet them with hot water and carefully wet the outside of her sleeve. Slowly but surely, the cotton pulled away from her skin as she rehydrated the black ooze. It would still take a bit of force to remove, it wouldn't result in the loss of any of her scales. Sinking her claws into the seam of her sleeve, Fern bit into the shoulder of the tunic and quickly yanked. The cotton gave way with ease in a clean break. After she rolled it down her wrist, she threw it in the sink and repeated the method on her other arm. Vaguely, she considered doing the same to her back; she knew several parts of it were coated in the black ooze, but she couldn't see them and didn't want to strip down, even in the isolated bathroom.

The young mutant clenched her jaw as her fingers slid down to the button of her jeans. She tapped it with a sharp tipped nail and briefly considered stripping out of them. She knew the glands along the outside of her thighs and calves had been stimulated, but faltered at the thought of cutting the denim away. It was bad enough she'd be walking back to the girls' room with so much skin exposed. What was left of her shirt barely covered her breasts and she really didn't want to have to risk destroying her pants with so many strange men around. Her hands braced the sink once more.

Worse, she knew there'd be no way to get the poison off her actual skin; not with the hand soap the bathroom provided. She'd need something more severe, like dish soap or laundry detergent.

As she stared down at the torn fabric, Fern drummed her nails on the sink's edge. She hesitated. There was no way she could leave them- she didn't want the government studying her poison without her consent. Her eyes drifted to the toilet and she briefly considered flushing them, but there was no way she'd be able to get rid of it all. Not without a clog. Biting her bottom lip, she quickly gathered the shredded remains of her tunic and began to tie them into a rope. Shaky hands wrapped it around her stomach and she forced the waistband of her jeans to cover it. It wasn't pretty, but it was practical and that was good enough for her.

After collecting every scale she could find off the bathroom's tiled floor, Fern stood. Her eyes darted around, making sure she hadn't missed anything as she brushed her hands on the seat of her pants. She froze as her fingers brushed the lenses of Blake's glasses. Fern slowly pulled them out of her back pocket.

She had liked Agent Sullivan. It was rare for her to meet anyone who treated her with respect, much less immediately and so warmly. She licked her thumb and ebbed away a bit of the dried blood on one of the lenses. It hadn't been fair for him to die that way. Such a violent death for such a kind man wasn't right. She thought of his office. How sterile and void of any sentimentality and felt an ache in her chest. Fern swallowed and ignored the flicker of her membrane over her eyes as she thumbed the glass.

Squaring her shoulders, she slid them back into her pocket and crossed back to the door. Fern poked her head out of it. None of the agents paid her any mind as she slipped out of the bathroom and all but sprinted back to the room they had given the girls. Pulling the rope of stained cotton from her waist, she snatched Angel's purse off the upper bunk. Anger bubbled in her chest and a malicious sneer crossed her lips as she emptied the contents out. Fuck Angel. She was dead to her- and not in the way Darwin and Blake were. Angel was gone and to be forgotten. Fern wouldn't do that to Armando or Agent Sullivan. She wouldn't let that happen to them.

Shoving the stained cotton into the purse, Fern stalked over to her bunk and dropped to her knees. Pulling a sweater out of her suitcase, she put it on to cover her bare skin and then put her long coat over that to cover her legs. Sliding the purse inside, she carefully wrapped Blake's glasses in one of her other sweaters for safe keeping.

A thought struck her and she stood and left the room just as Charles was jogging toward Raven in the courtyard.

Slipping through the troves of agents (most of which gave her a wide berth), Fern all but ran to the boys' sleeping area. She had just about made it when a man stepped in front of her. A familiar face peered down at her, red with rage and grimly set.

"This is all your damn fault."

"Me?" Fern asked with mock innocence, stepping back from the Agent who had hassled her two nights prior.

"You mutants," the Agent spat at her. Dark eyes hard, he swept his gaze over her form. "Freaks like you have caused nothing but trouble since you got here."

"You mean like asking to use the bathroom? Or did you mean the window thing?" The girl chuckled anxiously, her eyes darting around the busy hallway. No one paid them any mind, too focused on getting back to basics to care that one of their agents was harassing her. "Because I had nothing to do with that. I was just an innocent bystander."

He didn't find her disrespect the least bit charming. "Listen here you little bitch-"

With a sneer, he reached to grab her arm. Too surprised to stop him, the man managed to reach out and grip the wrist of her wool coat. He gave her a rough jerk toward him, effectively snapping Fern from her stupor. Quick to use his momentum against him, Fern slipped under his arm and effectively body checked him as she threw all her weight into his back. The man stumbled and the mutant took off running.

She had managed to reach the boy's room without another incident, but she still made sure to lock the door behind her. For a long moment, Fern stood stock-still at the door. She kept her ear pressed to it, listening for any sign of the angry agent. When there was none, the young woman moved toward the further bunk. She had absolutely no qualms about rifling through other people's belongings; perhaps if she'd had siblings or if Josie hadn't been so lenient with Fern's somewhat invasive tendencies, she might have. But she didn't and Josie hadn't, so the suitcase got dumped out onto the bed without a second thought.

It was filled with khakis. Pristinely folded khakis. It clearly didn't belong to Darwin, so she had no interest in it. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, Fern shoved Hank's clothes back inside. She then hopped up to the top bunk and was met with a familiar red button down, so she assumed it to be Sean's.

The mutant dropped from the bunk bed and moved over to the other. Only the top had any luggage, if a paper bag could be counted as such. She frowned at it, but pulled it and the lone pair of jeans next to it, closer. A quick glance inside confirmed it as Armando's, and Fern felt a pang of sadness as she emptied it out on the mattress. His whole life summed up in a few sparse articles of clothes and a pair of beat up sneakers stared back at her.

Fern bit her lip and shoved the shirts back. She had no use for clothing. When she checked his jeans, however, she found something she could keep. A wallet. Flipping it open, the young woman smiled softly at the sight of Darwin's driver's license. Her textured thumb slid it out.

The young woman pursed her lips at the sight of Darwin's muted expression. It wasn't the best photo of him, but it would do. The thin membrane flickered over her large eyes. Sniffing absently, Fern considered sliding it into her back pocket, but thought better of it. It would just get ruined if she did. Instead, she put it in the inside pocket to her wool coat. After tightening the belt around her waist, Fern squared her shoulders and slowly eased open the door.

With no angry agents in sight, Fern slipped back into the hall. Hands in her pockets, she kept her posture lax and casual as she moved toward Agent Sullivan's office. When she arrived to it, she was unsurprised to find it unlocked and vacant and the young woman wasted no time going inside.

Once again, Fern was surprised and a little disappointed by the lack of personal items. There were no family photos or knickknacks. Nothing remotely personal in any sense of the word. Mouth tight, she ran her finger nail along the edge of Blake's desk. Circling it, she moved to look over the few military medals and the odd photograph. The one that stuck out to her the most was one of him shaking hands with the current president, John F. Kennedy. Fern hadn't been old enough to vote for him, but Josie had.

A smile pulled at her thin lips at how excited the Agent looked and without second thought, Fern slid the photo, frame and all, into her shirt. Pulling her collar up, she turned and let out a sharp gasp when she realized she wasn't alone.

"Damn it, Summers!"

Alex remained in the doorway. His hands clenched and unclenched, anxious about being in a dead man's office. "Where've you been?"

Fern crossed her arms. "Around. Is Charles back yet?"

"Yeah." The blond swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck. "He said he can take you home whenever."

"You headed back to prison?" She asked. Keeping her back straight and hoping he didn't notice the odd lump on her chest, the young woman sauntered toward him.

"No."

Fern lifted a near invisible brow as they moved into the hall. "Why not?"

"Me and Sean are going with him to New York." Alex spared her a glance. His cheeks flushed with rage, the young man swallowed and explained, "He's gonna help us hone our mutations so we can go after Shaw."

"Great." Fern nodded and spun to stand in front of him. Expression serious and grim, she asked, "When do we leave?"

"I think he wants you home."

Fern stared at him. Irritated and a bit sarcastic, she said, "I think my friends are dead and I'm not going to stand for it." Bright eyes surprisingly stoic, she reminded him, "And he promised to help me with my mutation."

Alex stared at her a long moment. "Erik says we can avenge him."

Eying his frown and the seemingly genuine sadness in his pale features, Fern reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Making sure to keep her hands off his skin, she offered him a tense smile. "I guess vengeance is easier to cope with than grief, huh?"

Alex nodded and dropped his gaze. "Yeah."

"Come on." She gave his shoulder a light clap and jerked her head behind her. "Let's go break the news to Charles that his little team has one more member."


	14. A Goddamn Castle

Alex led Fern out to where the rest of the group was huddled together like a bunch of hamsters. Charles offered them a weak smile that quickly dropped once he honed in on the young woman's thoughts.

"No," Charles told her before she had a chance to speak. "Absolutely not. Go pack your bags, Miss Ailey. You're going home."

"Absolutely not," Fern replied, mocking his British accent back at him as he gently took her by the arm. She batted him away.

With a frown, the Professor led her away from the rest of the group. Voice low, he reminded her, "I promised your mother that no harm would come to you."

"And you promised me you'd teach me how to use my skin and I want to learn." A smirk pulled at her mouth. "You'd be a terrible professor to turn me away now." Her expression twisted into a sneer as Charles sighed at her. "And if you do your job, I'll be fine. I'm a grown woman, Charles and this is my decision. Not yours and not hers."

The man sighed and looked away from her. "I really think it would be best-"

"Either you take me with you or I hitchhike to Salem by myself." Squaring her shoulders, Fern leveled her gaze at him. "Which do you think my mother would prefer?"

It was then Erik decided to join them. His eyes flickered between Charles (who looked woefully unimpressed) and Fern (who looked entirely too proud of herself) and he leaned down to the shorter man's ear. "We need all the help we can get, Charles. Perhaps she could be an asset."

The Professor clenched his jaw. With a deep sigh, he told her curtly, "Fine. But if she asks, it's your ass, Miss Ailey."

The girl smirked. "Naturally."

"Go pack your bags." He looked to the others. Features stern, he told them, "You too. We leave in fifteen."

They did as they were told. Raven smiled softly at the other girl as they fell into step. The brunette offered a weak smirk, but said nothing. Just pulled her coat closer to her curves before the pair followed the boys back into the facility. At the queer glances they received from the surrounding agents, Raven sped up to join Hank and Alex while Sean slowed his steps. Fern didn't bother. She didn't particularly care if the agents were watching her anymore; they wouldn't make a move if she was with the group. They were still spooked from what happened and were not about to come after her without cause. The fact that she had been able to wander the facility without (much) trouble had proved that.

The redhead peered down at the young woman curiously. "So, where'd you disappear to?"

Fern blinked and cast Sean a sidelong glance. When she didn't answer right away, he elbowed her gently in the ribs. Without the adrenaline, the pain in her bust had returned and the brunette bared her teeth in a wince.

"You okay?" Sean frowned as he took her arm. As she shied away from him, his features paled. "Those suits didn't try anything on you did they, Fe?"

"No, I'm fine." Fern forced a smile at him. It was nice he was concerned, but Sean didn't need to know about the ache in her chest or how irritated her skin was with the frame in her shirt constantly rubbing against it. "Just tired."

Still frowning, the boy wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. Keeping his touch light and delicate, he didn't notice how she tensed; or perhaps he just ignored it. With a sigh, Sean rested his head delicately against hers. "Me too, babe."

The young woman rolled her eyes, but didn't shove him away. It was nice, being touched after such a heavy night. Much less so casually and gently. "Don't call me babe."

"Alright, gorgeous then, whatever." Sean lifted a gangly shoulder and grinned lopsidedly at her. "Sooner we pack the sooner we can hit the hay."

The brunette arched a covert eyebrow at him, but didn't comment. Shaking her head, she allowed him to steer her toward the room she and Raven had stayed in. When they reached it, the young man shot her a wink and let his arm fall before continuing on his way to the boys' quarters.

Fern shook her head and slipped inside. Raven stood at the foot of her bunk, holding a nightgown in her hands. Teary eyed, she lifted it up for the brunette to see. "What should we do with Angel's stuff?"

"I dunno, burn it?"

Raven's frown deepened. "Fern."

"Yeah, you're right," The taller girl snatched it from the blonde's hands. "We might need toilet paper for the trip."

"How can you say that?" Raven asked, slightly horrified by the other girl's coldness. Teary eyed, she snapped at her, "She was our friend. They were our friends."

"We knew them a day," Fern said firmly. Expression tense, her skin flickered and twisted as she lied, "they didn't mean a damn thing to us."

Horrified, Raven shook her head. "You don't mean that."

The girl sighed and dropped down onto her bunk. Fiddling with Angel's nightgown, she shrugged. Maybe if she hadn't fought with her, Angel wouldn't have left with Shaw. If she had just kept her mouth shut and temper in check Angel might've stayed. "Maybe if I say it enough, I'll believe it."

Slowly, the blonde moved to sit beside her. They stared at the nightgown a long moment before she spoke, "Angel isn't a bad person."

"I know."

"But she shouldn't have gone with Shaw."

"I know." Fern threw the gown across the room. It hit the wall and crumpled into a heap and the brunette was jealous of it. Jealous of it being able to break and bend without consequence. Jealous that it didn't have anything depending on it, didn't have any enemies or friends or blondes crying a few feet away. Voice catching, she stood, "She's just some fanatical gullible little fool. We're better off without her."

Raven stayed on the bed as the younger girl grabbed her suitcase. Moving it over to Raven's bunk, she didn't notice the tears slipping from the blonde's eyes. She didn't particularly care about them either. Keeping her back to her, Fern eased the frame out of her shirt. The membrane flickered over her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips at the sight of Blake Sullivan's beaming face. A shaky hand reached into her jacket and pulled out Darwin's license. She carefully secured it in the frame before she wrapped it in a pair of pajama pants. Easing it into her suitcase, she covered them with a sweatshirt and turned back to Raven.

Pursing her lips, Fern stood and snatched the blonde's bag off the bottom bunk. All but throwing it at her, she ordered, "Pack up. The sooner we leave, the sooner I shower and get to stop being a walking biohazard."

"Is that what that black stuff is?" Raven asked. "Your poison?"

"Yup."

The blonde stood. Fiddling anxiously with her fingertips, she asked, "Is- is it safe? Being…"

"So close?" Fern finished with a hint of irritation. "Yeah, you'll be fine, so long as there's no skin to skin contact. Can we please go now?"

At the plea in her friend's voice, Raven nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

The ride to Salem was, quite frankly, excruciating. Not because the company was bad, or because people were fighting, but rather because Fern had opted to take the seven hour car trip in the trunk.

Charles stared at her a long moment. "You can't be serious."

"It'll be safer for everyone," The brunette replied with a nonchalant shrug. "Besides, you really don't want to see me when I get claustrophobic."

The man squinted at her. "And you intend on fighting your claustrophobia by getting into a tiny airless space?"

Fern shrugged in an almost childish manner, drawing her shoulders inward and dropping his gaze. "It's different when I'm alone."

"I could knock you out," he offered. "Let you sleep the whole way there."

It was the young woman's turn to stare condescendingly at him. "Yeah, our level of trust is nowhere near where it would need to be for you to do that to me." Ignoring his scowl, she shrugged, "Besides, I wouldn't mind the chance to be alone. To…"

"Decompress?" the Professor offered. When she nodded, he sighed and rubbed his brow. "I don't like it."

"I've been kept in smaller spaces than this before. I can handle it."

And she did. Fern had expected the small space and stench of gasoline- she could handle those things. What she hadn't considered was the humidity. Her body temperature regulated to the unexpected heat with ease, making her slightly groggy and somewhat lethargic; but that wasn't the problem. The humidity, however, had clung to her scales and worse, had rehydrated the poison caked along the seams of them. It had no effect on her, of course, but she just knew she'd be faced with unwanted physical affection (most likely from Sean, who had been quite vocal about his disapproval of her life choices and had even offered to crawl in there with her, before being quite brutally shot down by the grey girl) and didn't want to send anyone into any kind of fit.

So when Charles opened the trunk, she initially stayed very still. She was greeted with the sight of Charles, Raven and Sean, who were all peering down at her in concern. It was the redhead who spoke first. At her lack of movement, the boy moaned, "Oh god, Chuck, you killed her!"

"I did not, don't be so dramatic." Charles blushed slightly. "You are alright, aren't you Miss Ailey?"

The girl pursed her lips and nodded. "I'm fine."

His brows quirked up along with the corner of his mouth. "Then how about you come join us, hm?"

"You have to promise not to touch me."

Sean grinned lewdly. "I promise nothing."

Fern glared at him. "Then I'm not coming out."

"Aw, come on, Fe, don't play hard to get," He teased, moving to sit on the bumper. "Come on, you've gotta see this house! It's outta sight."

"What?" The girl frowned at him. "What- wait, are we walking the rest of the way?!"

Charles shook his head at the younger man's excitement. "He means he likes it."

"It's your scales, isn't it?" Raven asked with a worried crease in her brow. "You're doing it again, aren't you?"

"Doing what again?" The Professor asked with a curious glance at the brunette.

"Last night when Shaw showed up- she started leaking this black goo," Raven explained, ignoring the grey girl's eye roll. "She said it was poisonous."

"It is," Fern told her with a scowl, "and I don't appreciate you talking for me."

Charles bent down on one knee to look her properly in the face. Features kind and open, he offered, "I promise no one will touch you until you're sure it's safe."

Fern nodded. Easing out of the trunk, she batted Sean's hands away when he went to help her. "Don't touch me!"

"Hey, I didn't make any promises," The redhead teased with a smile. It sobered a moment as he asked, "You sure you're okay, Fern?"

The young woman nodded briskly. "Come on. You can show me this outta sight house."

"We were just about to start the tour," Raven told her with a hint of a smirk. "Maybe you'd like to shower first?"

"Splendid idea." Charles smiled at them, "I'll show her to her chambers whilst you give the boys something to fight over…I mean, whilst you show them to their rooms."

Like the others before her, Fern gaped at the house- no, castle before her. It was easily the biggest house, hell the biggest building she had ever seen. Well, next to the CIA base anyway.

The girl's jaw dropped. "Holy shit."

"Language, Miss Ailey." Charles smirked as he righted his suit jacket. It was slightly ruffled after the long ride, but it seemed as if the young woman hadn't noticed. Still, appearances were important and the man buttoned it. "What would your mother say?"

"She would say holy shit, that's a goddamn castle," Fern told him, eyes wide and mouth slack. "Then she would advise me to marry you because that is a goddamn castle."

The man stared at her. Eyes crinkled with amusement, he shook his head with a brisk, sarcastic, "Eloquent." Resisting the urge to clap her on the shoulder, Charles smiled at her. "Come along then, let's get you cleaned up so you can join the others, hm?"

Fern nodded and hiked her suitcase up on her back. Still stunned by the sheer size and beauty of the house, she followed him obediently inside. It was decorated pretty much how she had expected, elegantly but somehow cold. It felt like there were no personal touches and had an aloof feel that reminded her of the hospitals and exam rooms of her youth. Everything was too sterile and impersonal. There were no knicks in the hardwood where a kid had rode a bike or a scratch in the paint where someone had stumbled. There were no family photos or knickknacks along the mantel. Everything looked incredibly expensive. The art that lined the walls- a single piece alone, probably cost more than Fern's entire house and it felt very much like she was standing in a museum. Not that she had ever been to one, but when Josie was mad at her she often expected her to be what she called 'museum quiet'. The idea of living in the beautiful but frigid castle made the young woman nervous, and admittedly a bit anxious.

"Imagine growing up in it."

Fern blinked and her skin swirled with embarrassment when she realized Charles had heard her internal criticisms.

He smiled warmly at her. "I hope to fill this house with new, more colorful memories, Miss Ailey. Hopefully your, and the others, presence will help soften the hollow feeling that seems to cling to these walls."

She offered him a tight, nervous smile. "Uh…the paint's really pretty?"

"Thank you. My mother decorated it herself."

"She has good taste in paint."

"I suppose she did."

The grey girl offered him an awkward thumb's up. "Dead, got'cha." Clearing her throat, she asked, "So…bathroom?"

"Come along." Charles crooked a finger and led her up a large staircase. Speaking all the while, he explained, "All rooms have a bath, with the exceptions of the servants' floor, where they only have adjacent baths."

"Servants floor?" Fern repeated as they reached the top. "Are you kidding me?"

The man chuckled. "I assure you, I am not." He nodded. "Any of these rooms should suit you well, Miss-"

"You can call me Fern."

"Well, you insisted Hank call you by your title so I was unsure if I had the privilege, given my title of scientist." His expression became a bit more muted, a bit more disapproving as he arched a brow at her.

The young woman bristled. "You're a professor."

"A professor of science."

Fern's expression tightened. Skin flickering with annoyance and a bit of embarrassment, she shrugged. "You can call me Fern so long as you don't try and suck my blood."

"I can assure you I won't." Charles offered her a soft smile. "If you need anything, there's a linen closet at the end of the hall. You'll find plenty of toiletries in there."

"I need-"

"Something stronger than hand soap?" He turned and faced the other direction. "Cleaning supplies at the end of the hall; mostly bleach, but if that's too strong-"

"It is."

"There's also some laundry detergent and dish soap in the same closet," Charles finished with a simper.

Running a hand through her damp black hair, the girl nodded as her skin flickered. "Thanks."

"I'll see you soon." Charles smirked at her. "After all, you still have to call your mother and break the news to her."

Fern groaned. Turning toward the linen closet, she didn't bother to say goodbye. Her mind was already on considerably more pressing matters- like just what the hell was she going to tell her mother? With a couple towels slung over her shoulders and a box of Tide under her arm, the young woman entered the room closest to the supply closet.


	15. Moira, Harassment and Science

The room she picked, much like the rest of the house, lacked any kind of personality.

The walls were a pale blue, the window large with dark blue curtains and most importantly, the mahogany dresser was empty. Fern dropped her suitcase beside it. Not bothering to unpack, she hefted the box of detergent on her hip and slipped into the adjacent bathroom.

It was disturbingly white, but it would do. Locking the door behind her, the young woman wasted no time. Balancing the box on her hip, she stripped out of her jeans. The sticky pads on her toes grabbed them and kicked them in the sink as she dumped a few cups of detergent into the awaiting tub.

Sighing, Fern planted her foot back on the floor. As her toes tapped against the tiles, the young woman pulled off her shirt and threw it in the sink as well. She then kicked on the handle to turn the water on and all but leapt into the tub.

It would take her a little over an hour to get completely clean, and a little over an hour after that to think up something to tell her mother. Fern spent the second hour scrubbing her poison off the pristine white porcelain of the tub and unpacking... and admittedly still trying to figure out something to tell her mother. Finally, she gave up and simply sat in her underwear, staring at the dresser. Long legs crossed, Fern let her head fall back against the mattress. Sticky toes flexing against the navy carpet, the woman barely noticed when Raven poked her head into the room.

"Hey." The blonde smiled as Fern glanced over the bed. "All cleaned up?"

The brunette frowned at her. "How'd you get in here?"

"The door was open," Raven explained. "Ready for a tour?"

Fern sighed and pulled herself up off the floor. "Let me get some pants."

"And maybe a different shirt?"

The grey girl glanced down at her white a-shirt. It was a bit too revealing to be wandering around in; admittedly less for the amount of skin showing than the fact the Fern was not wearing a bra. With a nod, she opened her drawer and pulled out a sweatshirt and a pair of baggy pajama pants. Without a word, the woman pulled the pants on. She ignored how the thin cotton skipped and tugged over the glands along the outside of her thighs as she pulled them up to her hips.

Tying the drawstring, she nodded toward the door. "Lead the way."

Raven smiled and drummed her fingers on the doorframe. As Fern slipped the sweatshirt over her head, the duo left the room. Admittedly, the brunette didn't listen to a damn thing the blonde had to say. Fern was too worried to even begin to care about where the others were staying or the history of the house.

Raven spared her a glance as they made their way down the stairs. "Everything alright? You seem…distracted."

"My ma is gonna kill me." Large blue eyes flickered over to the shorter girl. "Help me think up a lie."

Disapproval written all over her cherub like features, her friend shook her head. "She's going to find out you're not in Virginia eventually. You may as well tell her the truth."

Fern glared at the sheer lunacy the blonde so flippantly suggested. The truth? The truth was not acceptable. Telling her mother she had run off to fight a Nazi super human was not an option. The brunette scoffed. If she wanted sentimental drivel, she would've asked Charles for his advice.

"What? I'd kill to have a mother to lie to." Raven squeezed the brunette's arm. "Come on, you can call her from the study."

Dragging her feet, the grey skinned girl whined as the blonde pulled her along. Inside Charles' study sat, unsurprisingly, Charles. He was accompanied by Erik and a woman, neither of whom looked terribly pleased by the girls' sudden arrival.

Charles smirked. Standing from his desk, he inclined his head. "Miss Ailey. Here to use the phone I suspect?"

Fern's eyes didn't trail from the stranger who sat before her. It took her a moment to recognize her, but it clicked at the sound of her voice. The irate woman from the courtyard.

"Is there a reason she can't use the phone in the kitchen?" The petite brunette frowned, not annoyed, but simply puzzled.

The grey girl looked to Charles. Irritation swirled along her skin as she asked, "What's she doing here? I thought we weren't working with the government anymore?"

"She wants to help," Charles told the Ailey girl with a hint of finality she didn't totally understand.

Fern ignored it. "Is it safe?"

He nodded and motioned for the petite woman to stand. "Moira McTaggert, this is Fern Ailey."

"Hello." Moira nodded to her and offered her hand. Her brown eyes flickered over the girl's skin with interest before meeting her gaze head on. "How was the trunk?"

Fern shrugged and shook her hand. Ignoring how the woman winced as the ridges of her fingertips dragged along her smooth skin, the young woman replied with a stilted, "I've had worse trips."

"I bet," Erik broke in. He stood as well, raking his gaze over the girl's outfit curiously. Licking his lips, he let his eyes trail from her bare grey feet to her sweatpants, over the shapeless form of her sweatshirt as he frowned, "I wouldn't have suspected you to dress so conservatively in your own home."

Fern's large eyes narrowed and her skin twisted from black to white to slate grey and back. Disgust in her voice, she sneered, "What I wear is none of your concern."

Raven cleared her throat delicately and looked around the glaring couple to Moira. She smiled at her, warm and bright, and nodded to the door. "Why don't we give Fern some privacy?"

"A splendid idea," Charles agreed. He grabbed the other man by the shoulder and pulled him along. "Come on, Erik. It's been a long trip and you must be hungry by now."

"Actually-"

"Erik," Charles repeated with a rather bitchy expression.

The taller man rolled his eyes but followed without complaint. Charles shot the young woman a wink and she returned it with a smirk. As the door shut tightly behind them, Fern sighed. Slowly, she skulked over to the large plush chair Charles had vacated and dropped into it. With a scowl, she realized once again, her fingers wouldn't fit in the holes of the stupid rotary phone. Clenching her teeth, Fern pulled open the nearest drawer. There were no pens inside, only papers and that just served to agitate the young woman further and she slammed it shut. It took her two more drawers and a long stream of curses before she finally came across a goddamn pencil.

By the time she actually dialled the number, Fern was too irritated to remember to be scared. At least, until her mother's voice filtered through the receiver.

"Hello?"

Fern's mouth went dry.

"Hello?" Josie repeated with a bit of annoyance. "Is anybody-"

"Ma!" The girl squeaked. "How are you? Sorry about that I think there was…static, over the line."

"I'm fine. How's Virginia? Have you made any friends?"

The young woman hesitated. "Yeah…about that…"

"You haven't decided to come home, have you?" Her mother asked with a bit of concern. "I mean, things are going well aren't they?"

Fern swallowed. The membrane flickered over her eyes and for a few seconds she was quiet.

"Fern, baby?"

"I'm…we're not in Virginia." The girl squeezed her eyes shut. "We're in New York."

Josie faltered over the line. New York was so much further away than Virginia. Voice wavering, she asked, "But why?"

"Charles has a house here," Fern said simply. Her toes flexed anxiously and she wrapped an arm around her torso. Eyes shut, she clenched her teeth and waited.

"But why aren't you in Virginia? I thought they gave you a job?" When her daughter was silent, Josie's grip tightened on the receiver. Anxiety riddled the elderly mother's bones as she pressed, "Baby, did something happen?"

"Yes," Fern croaked. Swallowing, she shook her head. All of the lies she had planned fell from her head as she forced the tremble from her voice. "Yes, there was an attack."

"An attack?" Josie repeated, her voice raspy and throat dry with fear.

The young woman leaned back into Charles' chair. Tucking her feet under her, she explained, "Apparently there are other mutants."

"And?" Her mother asked tepidly.

"And they're not too keen on assimilating with human society."

"Oh." A bit more forcefully, Josie asked, "And what does that have to do with you?"

"Charles is going to train us. He's going to help us hone our abilities-"

"To fight them?" Josie asked with a hint of hysteria. "What kind of idiot-"

Fern sighed. Rubbing her brow with the back of her fingers, she started, "Ma-"

"You're just a kid!" The woman snapped, voice shrill in a way Fern knew meant she was moment from tears." You can't go off and fight some kind'a mutant war, Fern, it's not right!"

"They killed my friends, Ma."

Josie started at the weakness in her daughter's voice. "I'm sorry."

The young woman swallowed and steeled her nerves. She thought of Darwin's friendly smile and how protective Blake had been. Her stomach in knots, Fern thought of the others. The people outside the door who had been, for the most part, good to her. She thought of Raven's warmth and Sean's acceptance. Of Alex's brash nature and Hank's nervousness. Fern wouldn't pretend to know them well, but she liked them. She didn't want them to die, but she'd be able to live if they did. But she wouldn't be able to go on if Shaw got his way. Fern could handle being without friends, but she couldn't handle being without her mother. She couldn't take being an orphan again and she wouldn't. She refused to stand aside and let Shaw step up and threaten her family.

Lip quivering, Fern told her, "I don't want anything to happen to you. Or to anyone else and if I just stand aside…if they go through with what they're planning a lot of people are going to die, Ma."

"But you might," Josie said helplessly. "I can't- I can't do this without you, kid."

The girl closed her eyes and took a deep breathe. "I know."

Frustrated, her mother sighed helplessly, "And I'm supposed to be okay with this?"

"No." Fern shifted, uncomfortable and helpless in the lavish office. "I know…I know because of Victor, you're probably going to be extra worried and you're gonna be no matter what, so…" The thin membrane flickered over her eyes and she squeezed them shut, before she finished with a weak, "Just wish me luck, okay?"

"Always, baby."

A smile pulled at the girl's mouth at the sincerity in the woman's voice. "Thanks, Ma."

"I love ya, kid."

"If you really loved me you wouldn't have given my room to Bruno's girlfriend," Fern teased with a grin.

Josie let out a cackle of a laugh. It warmed the mutant's heart and she leaned back in the plush chair with a snicker as her mother teased, "You can't play the dead husband and jealous of the dog cards in the same minute, darlin'! You gotta spread those guilt trips out, you know that."

"I love you too, Ma."

Tone tight, Josie ordered, "You take care of yourself, Fern Ailey. I don't want no daughter of mine comin' back in a pine box."

"I'll be careful and I'll keep you up to date, okay?"

"Okay. Call me tomorrow?"

"I will. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Fern closed her eyes and simply listened to her mother breathe. Neither of them moved to hang up. Finally, the young woman set the receiver gently back in the cradle. Stomach in knots, she stood and raked her hands through her damp black hair. Fisting the black strands tightly, the young woman took a deep breath and held it in her diaphragm. After a few seconds, she let it out and squared her shoulders.

Fern pushed the thought of her mother away and instead tried to think of something else. Anything else. Her mind went back to Charles' words and thought of Hank. Fingers twitching at her sides, the grey girl slipped out of the study and up the stairs.

It only took her a few seconds to gather what she needed from her…well, the room that had been given to her. The room that she had picked. Vaguely, she wondered how many of the others were on the same floor as her. It didn't really matter, she supposed, and quickly made her way back down the stairs.

Hank sat at an island counter in the kitchen. Alex stood a few feet away, leaning casually against the fridge with his hands in his pocket. Bored, he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. He was the first to notice the grey girl in the doorway. It seemed odd, seeing her in such casual clothing, but he didn't comment. Instead, he nodded to her. "Hey."

The other man looked up from his file in surprise. Fern swallowed and slowly approached them. Her gaze went to Hank, hardening slightly at the sight of the pens in his pocket and the awkward way he pushed up his glasses.

Without a word, she set Angel's purse in front of him.

Both of the young men stared at it, but it was Hank who spoke, "What's this?"

"It's…what's left of what I was wearing. Last night." Fern rubbed the back of her neck. "I…I can't use it, so I thought maybe you could get something out of it."

His blue eyes widened at her as he took hold of the purse strap. "You're giving me a sample?"

Her grey skin seemed to crinkle and crackle with rage as she snapped, "Don't call it that!" Shifting restlessly, Fern shrugged. "And don't touch it with your bare hands."

The blond man kicked away from the fridge. Alex glanced over Hank's shoulder curiously before looking to Fern. He didn't say anything, just eyed her with interest.

The girl glared at him. "What?"

"I thought you hated science?"

"I do." She lifted a weak shoulder, but her features stayed tight. "Science can fuck right off."

Hank frowned at her.

She frowned right back. After a moment, she softened and with a sigh, she told him, "I just thought…it would be best for everyone… if you could do something with it. Just in case."

"Just in case what?"

Fern shrugged again. "Just in case I get scared and someone gets handsy."

"You mean Sean?" Alex asked knowingly.

She nodded a bit reluctantly. "He doesn't seem to have boundaries."

"He has, like, ten siblings," the blond man explained with a hint of distaste. "Boundaries do not exist for people with ten siblings."

"It's gross," Fern told him point blank. It was a lie, of course. She rather liked that Sean was so free with his touches toward her. It was nice, but probably not in his best interest. "He needs to stop."

"Are you talking about making an antidote? Or an anti-venom?"

Fern toed the tiles awkwardly. "Call it whatever you want, Hank."

The bespectacled man grinned. "I'll see what I can do. Fern."

They shared a nod and Fern left without another word.


	16. Touchy Feely Hostility

To her surprise, sleep came easily to Fern. She slept deeply and soundly well into the afternoon, when Sean decided it was time to ruin her day.

After his knocking went ignored, the redhead took it upon himself to simply open the goddamn door, as apparently Hank had been right about him lacking boundaries. Poking his head inside, he whispered her name. "Are you up yet?"

The young woman didn't stir. She was sprawled out on top of her covers, one of her long legs kicked up to her chest and the foot of the other hanging off the bed. The pristine white pillow she was clutching was a stark contrast to her dark grey skin. For once her flesh was still and calm and Sean smiled at the sight of it. Admittedly, there was a lot of it to see, given her pajamas consisted of a pair of jockeys and an undershirt. Her scales caught some of the white from her clothing and pillow and reflected it in the sunlit room.

"Fern. Fern, wake up," The young man whispered as he approached the bed. When she slept on, he glared at her. It wasn't fair. Hank had woken him up at the crack of noon and here was Fern, sleeping soundly at nearly four p.m. Scowling, he didn't bother lowering his voice as he snapped, "Fern!"

Her corrugated toes twitched, but other than a slight moan and a flicker of acknowledgement from her skin, the young woman didn't move.

"Fern." He crossed his arms. "This is your last warning."

When the girl merely hugged the pillow tighter, Sean promptly fell onto the bed. As thin as he was, the redhead still managed to propel the sleeping girl about an inch off the bed.

The young woman bolted up with a squeak. Her eyes were wide and skin an array of swirls and flickers. Teeth bared, Fern hopped onto her hunches, ready to fight. When her eyes locked on him, she snapped, "What?! What's happening?!"

"Nothing." Sean grinned at her and stuck his hands behind his head. "Come back to bed, babe."

The girl stared at him. He seemed completely content, stretched out beside her and wearing a smile that was incredibly smug. Fern blinked at him. After a moment, her bewilderment turned to rage. Shoving him, the young woman growled, "Are you insane?! Do you know what I could've done to you?!"

"Put me in a coma?" The boy asked with a hint of nonchalance. He grabbed the pillow she had abandoned and hugged it to his chest with the corner of it tucked under his cheek. Partly to be a pest and partly to protect himself from her sharp fingernails. With an innocent bat of his lashes, Sean offered her a wide, closed mouth smile.

She didn't share his mirth. With firmly clenched teeth, she grit out, "Yes."

"Well you didn't and I'm not, so…" Sean smirked and patted the space beside him once more. "Come lay with me, gorgeous."

Fern scoffed and got off the mattress. Acutely aware of the fact that she was under dressed, she made her way to the dresser. Pulling her undershirt down at the back, her skin swirled with embarrassment as she yanked open a drawer. "Get out of my bed, Cassidy."

"Don't be like that."

Fern jerked a hand at him in a dismissive swat without bothering to look at him. "Get."

Sean sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Pillow in his lap, he eyed her back with interest. The young man thought back to her hours spent in the trunk of the car. To how she had isolated herself from the group and how she had refused to back down from Shaw. He wondered how she had managed to sleep so easily; Sean spent the night tossing and turning, unable to get the image of Darwin disintegrating into dust from his mind. Concerned, he asked, "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine." Ignoring the flutter in her stomach at his casual, friendly attention, Fern grabbed a pair of jeans and slid them on. "You?"

Behind her back, the young man watched as the material skimmed and skipped over the thick glands on the outside of her thighs. Sean pouted as her ass was covered, wishing he had spent more time staring at it, than at her (admittedly dangerous, but still appealing) scutes. The lie came easily to him. "I slept great. My bed is way more comfortable than yours."

The brunette rolled her eyes. Turning to face him with a hint of annoyance, she asked just what the hell he was doing in her bedroom in the first place.

"You missed breakfast. And lunch. And dinner is in like twenty minutes," Sean explained as he stood. His hands slipped into the front pockets of his jeans as he shrugged. "I think Charles wants us to bond or something. He was all," The young man put on a posh, incredibly insulting British accent that earned a grin from Fern, "we need to learn to function as a team, Sean. Responsibility and well balanced nutrition, Sean, and then I just tuned him out."

Giggling, the grey girl ran her hand through her hair. With a shake of her head, she leaned back against the dresser. "That does sound like him."

"Well, my accent pales in comparison to yours, Miss Absolutely Not, but…" He let his voice trail off with a sheepish shrug. Now that she was relaxed, Sean let his expression open a bit more, let it become a bit more genuine and worried as he asked, "How're you feeling? After the trip and the…whatever was up with your skin. I didn't see you last night."

Fern crossed her arms. Said skin flickered with a hint of embarrassment as she peered down at her exposed forearms. Absently tracing one of her parotid glands with a sharp fingernail, she dropped his gaze. "It's alright. I mean, I can't always control it."

"I didn't ask how it was." The redhead frowned at her. Careful fingers reached forward and grazed one of the glands on her bicep. It was surprisingly soft, almost spongey. He had expected it to feel callous, given its stone-like appearance. "I asked how you were."

"I'm fine." Fern's skin rippled with the lie. His overly-friendly nature was still a bit unsettling to her, but not unwelcome. It didn't come across as a morbid fascination, or some kind of covert way to feel her up. All of Sean's movements and touches were relaxed and affable, and frankly, they kind of endeared him to her. Her skin mellowed into a slate grey as she sighed. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm not Raven, babe." Sean smirked at her in a way that didn't reach his earnest blue eyes. Shaking his head, he told her, "That ain't gonna fly with me."

The young woman clenched her fangs together. Gaze firmly on the bed, Fern told him, "Next time it happens, I want you to promise you won't touch me or I can't promise I'll be able to have your back."

Sober, he nodded and let his hand fall. "I won't touch you." He winked at her and took her hand. "When you're spitting poison, anyway."

"Thank you." Fern gave his fingers a light squeeze and moved to let go when he pulled her into a hug.

Her entire body stiffened. His hold was careful and the hands cradling her lower back cautious as Sean rested his chin on her mostly bare shoulder. Worse, her chest pressed against his, jarring her chafed skin and reminding her that she was still braless. Thankfully, Sean didn't seem to notice.

"We've shared a bed, Fe." He snickered against her ear and ignored how erratically her skin swirled and stuttered. Sean was sort of surprised he could feel it; the slight change in the temperature of the scales, with the darker scales a touch cooler than the light. "You can give me hug before you send me off."

Fern lifted a hesitant hand to cup that back of his neck. Sean's body was long and lanky and she was a bit worried that she would crush him if she applied too much force. Still, the brunette gave him a quick pat on the back before she pulled away. Forcing a smile and ignoring how her skin twisted and churned through various shades of flustered embarrassment, she gave him a light shove. Licking her lips, Fern nodded and kept her head down. "There. Now get out."

"Alright." Sean nodded. Eyes soft and a bit proud, he backed away. "I'll see you downstairs."

She offered him a tight smile and sarcastic twiddle of her fingers as he shut the door. Flopping onto the bed, Fern tried desperately to swallow her nerves. She liked being around Sean, even if his actions were confusing. Fern wasn't deluded enough to think he was attracted to her. She had seen him with Angel and assumed him to be a bit of a tramp. Still his flirtations were nice, if not a little…pointless. They felt natural; calm and friendly, just like he was. His touches pushed her boundaries but didn't necessarily frighten her. At least, not as much as she would've expected them to. Sean was too nice to be afraid of.

With a groan, Fern forced herself off the bed and went to clean herself up.

By the time she got downstairs, only half of the group had gathered. The table they sat at was covered with food; enough pasta and salad and bread to feed a small army, which Fern supposed was exactly what they were. The adults, Charles, Erik and Moira, sat sipping tea beside Hank. He smiled tightly at her in greeting, but otherwise stayed silent. It was then that she noticed the file in front of him. Curious, Fern quickly eased onto the stool beside Erik, across from the scientist.

Tilting her head, she pointedly ignored the others as she asked, "What's that?"

Surprised, but clearly pleased, Hank smiled at her. "It's a compilation of our abilities. I thought it might come in handy to know everyone's strengths."

The young woman hummed as she popped her toes onto the brace of the stool. Knees bent, she hovered over the table and tilted her head. "Can I see it?"

"Sure." He slid it over to her.

Large blue eyes skimmed over the material quietly until she found her name. The list was short and concise (poison skin, wall climbing abilities, adopted) and she wordlessly held out her hand.

Hank stared at it. When she started making the universally known 'gimmie' motion that involved crooking her fingers at him, the scientist stuttered, "Uh..I- I don't…"

Charles chuckled from a seat across from him. "She wants the pen, Hank."

"Oh." Hank placed it in her waiting palm as Erik snickered into his mug of tea. "Well, she could've asked."

Fern ignored them. Especially Erik, who took the opportunity to lean over her shoulder to read what she was writing. Fangs grinding together, she shifted away from him as her skin trembled with discomfort.

"Erik," Charles said with a hint of firmness in his normally affable tone. When his friend glanced his way, he gave the taller man a slight shake of his head. Erik rolled his eyes, but let the girl have her space.

Unaware of the awkwardness, Sean and Alex strolled into the kitchen. Well, Sean strolled. Alex, still half-asleep, stumbled. The redhead grinned at the sight of Fern and quickly scored the seat beside her. "Hey, darlin. What'cha doin'?"

Beside her Erik chuckled and leaned a bit closer to her to ask, "Darling, hm?"

Teeth clenched so tightly it began to hurt, Fern quickly hopped off her stool. She looked to the redhead and demanded, "Trade me spots."

Sean eyed her skin, noting the tremble to it. Pursing his lips, the boy stood wordlessly.

"Oh, Fern," Erik teased with a wide, predatory grin. "Be cordial."

The grey girl ignored him and instead smiled at the redhead. Skin an array of black and white, she changed seats with Sean.

Evidently, Erik wasn't too fond of the switch. With a smirk, he casually pulled the chair out from under the younger man. Amused, he watched Sean tumble to the floor and ignored the others' shocked gasps (and Alex's cackle).

"Erik," Charles chided with a frown. "Was that really necessary?"

Casually lifting his mug of tea to his lip, Erik averted his gaze. Eyes crinkling with mirth, he replied stoically, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"He's talking about you being an ass," Fern clarified as she reached to help Sean stand. Her eyes softened as they switched from Erik to the lanky redhead. "You alright, Cassidy?"

The redhead fought the wince off his face and grinned at her. Clasping their hands, he let her pull him up and ignored the pain in ass. "It's cool, Fe. It was an accident…right, Erik?" His blue eyes slipped to Erik, cold in a way that completely contrasted the heat of his flushed cheeks.

"Right," the man drawled sarcastically.

Fern barely blinked as Raven breezed into the kitchen. "He's still an ass."

Sean gingerly sat down, keeping a firm hand between his thighs to keep his stool in place as he did. He smiled at the grey girl when she frowned at him, but merely asked her to pass the juice. The redhead took it from her and his expression dropped slightly. "Back to wearing gloves, I see."

Fern shrugged and picked the pen back up. Ignoring Sean, and the rest of the group, she went back to the file.

At the head of the table, Charles nodded to the blonde as she slipped into the seat between Hank and Alex. "Did everyone sleep well?" Before anyone could actually answer, he beamed. "Wonderful! Now, I've come up with a few trust exercises for us to do."

"Annnnnnd I'm out," Alex announced as he pushed away from the table.

"We have to learn to work as a team," The British man continued, pointedly ignoring him. "We need to trust each other, know each other. Our strengths and weaknesses."

Fern took the opportunity to add condescending and idealist next to Charles' name in Hank's file. When he glared at her, she added nosy. Smirking, Fern continued on through the file, editing it as she saw fit. She added loud to Moira's and lacks boundaries to Sean's. She put in that Erik was an egomaniac and that Alex needed space for his mutation. Vaguely, she was aware that the others had begun eating, but she ignored them. Fern made a note that her glands worked sporadically and what she need to keep them clean and then began a new list.

She put Angel's name at the top; immediately followed by traitor, short and wears an impractical amount of eye make-up. Fern added what she had seen of the brunette's mutation (insecticide wings and fire spitting) before adding the other names she had heard. Shaw (egomaniacal Nazi, stupid helmet, abilities unknown) and Azazel (under his name she just put teleporting communist, knife nut, because that was all she knew of him) were next before she found herself glaring at the page. She didn't know the name of the final member of Shaw's team, so she just put down SMUG BASTARD in big, capital letters with tornados underneath.

Fern hardly noticed Erik slipping into Hank's seat in front of her. "His name is Riptide. At least, that's what Schmidt calls him. He makes them with his hands."

Fern quickly jotted that down. It was then that she realized they were alone. Frowning, she asked where the others went.

"We're getting to know each other. One on one." Erik leaned back on the stool with a smirk. "I suppose Charles felt the need to pair us up because of the hostility between the two of-"

"I'm not hostile," Fern interrupted. Licking her teeth, she sniffed at him with distaste. "I just don't like you."

"I like you."

She scoffed at him. "You like my mutation."

"Well, you must admit it's rather…unique." His gaze touched her face in a way that left her stomach in disturbed knots. It reminded her of the doctors from her childhood, his obsession with her skin. Voice soft, and eyes dark, he finished, "Stunningly so."

The girl glared at him. "Where are the others?"

"Hank and Alex are off trying to make nice, as are Moira and Raven," he explained as he reached for his mug of tea. "I believe Charles and Sean are in the study." Wickedness gleamed in his bright eyes as he smiled. "We could go somewhere more comfortable if you like." Leaning forward, a touch, his gaze darkened and he moved to take the pen from her fingers. "A bedroom, maybe."

The young woman threw it at him. It stopped between them in midair. Skin rippling with rage, she sneered at him. "I'd rather eat glass than go to bed with you."

"Such a filthy assumption for such a lovely girl," Erik teased, but his eyes grew a touch cold. "Is it because I knocked your little boyfriend on his ass?"

Fern bared her teeth at him and pushed her stool back. "I think we're done here."

Grabbing a bowl of pasta from what was left on the table, she stormed out of the kitchen. His laughter followed her, echoing off the walls and leaving her sick.


	17. Making Friends Is Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Linda Ku is still betaing these, and she's still awesome.

When Moira knocked, Fern had taken refuge on the ceiling. She had been there little over an hour, flipped upside-down in the corner. At first, the Ailey girl ignored her. She felt no need to answer to Moira, or anyone else really. Especially girl blinked, a bit disturbed that the woman even knew what room was hers. Fern was still rather upset with how things had ended between her and Erik and had been patiently waiting for Charles to come in and scold her for her lack of trying.

"Fern? Are you awake?" Moira asked through the door.

The girl rolled her eyes, but when the woman kept knocking, she fell to the floor. Landing with soundless grace on her tiptoes, Fern crossed to the door and pulled the wooden chair from under the knob. Spinning it away with sticky fingers, she opened the door to face the human.

Moira was a pretty, petite woman somewhere in her mid-thirties if Fern had to guess. She was sensibly dressed in a dark mauve sweater and a finely pressed skirt and looking at the mutant in a way that immediately put her on edge. It was hopeful.

When people looked hopeful they usually wanted something and with a hint of irritation, Fern cocked her hip against the doorframe and crossed her arms. With a glower, she snapped, "What?"

"How did things go with Erik?"

Fern just stared at her.

Moira winced and clutched the notebook in her hand a bit tighter. "That bad, huh?"

"Don't act like you don't already know exactly how things went with Erik." Fern had the distinct feeling everyone in the mansion probably already knew, because Charles seemed to be a bit of a gossip. Licking her teeth, she sighed at the woman, and really at the entire situation said woman represented by being there. "What'd you want?"

The shorter woman cleared her throat delicately. "Charles is having Hank design us combat suits. I thought you might prefer it if I was the one to take your measurements over Hank."

Pursing her lips, Fern inclined her head in a derisive nod. "You would be right." Jerking away from the doorframe, she asked, "Why can't Raven do it?"

Moira took that as an invitation to enter. Slowly, she closed the door behind her. Her gaze flickered around the room with interest, but it was the same as all the others. The only difference was that of the wooden chair at the end of her bed. Arching a brow at it, the woman told her, "I thought it might be nice for us to get to know one another."

Fern said nothing, just moved to sit on the edge of her bed. For a moment, she watched the short brunette. Moira seemed a bit uncomfortable, but not on edge. After pursing her lips a moment, Fern licked her teeth. "What're you doin' here?"

Brown eyes blinked as Moira faltered. "I told you-"

"No, I mean, in the mansion." Fern dismissively waved her hand, the scales of it glittering in the bright light of the room. "What're you doin' in the mansion? With us?"

The petite brunette arched a delicate, slightly defensive brow. Tone terse, but not hostile, she replied with a simple, "My job."

"So you're spying on us?"

Moira's jaw clenched slightly. "I'm trying to keep America safe."

"From us."

"From Shaw," Moira corrected. Voice just short of aloof, the brunette reminded her, "If he gets what he wants, half the planet will be wiped out. Including me."

Fern hummed and nodded. "Works for me." Rolling her shoulders with a hint of discomfort, she asked, "So. What now?"

"Well, it would be easiest if you stripped down to your underwear."

The girl's large blue eyes narrowed with amusement. Standing, she smirked at the agent. "If you wanted to see me naked, you could've just asked, MacTaggert."

Moira immediately began to blush and stammer as Fern stripped out of her sweatshirt.

"I didn't- I mean, it's best to get as close to the scales-" The woman paused and corrected, "I mean skin as possible."

"I bet." Fern tossed her sweater over her shoulders and ignored how her skin swirled with anxiety. In truth, the idea of being half-naked around someone she had only just met made her stomach tight. Still, she supposed it was better than having Hank do it, so she kept her mouth shut and put on a brave front. Shimming out of her sweatpants, she asked how things went with Raven.

A smirk pulled at the corner of Moira's mouth. "Fine. She was a bit upset about what happened at dinner, but…"

Fern blinked and glanced up from folding her t-shirt. Standing there in a matching set of white undergarments, the taller brunette tilted her head. "Why? What happened at dinner?"

"She tried talking to you a few times, but you ignored her." Moira fiddled with the tape measure absently, but her eyes stayed sharp and focused on the mutant. Casually dropping her notebook on the bed, she admitted, "I think her feelings were hurt."

"Oh," the girl blinked again, scale shifting with embarrassment. "I didn't even notice."

The woman approached her, gaze raking over her skin with ill-concealed interest. When Fern turned her back on her, Moira gently slipped the tape measure under her bust. The girl stiffened, but stayed still. The woman's touch was gentle and unobtrusive, as was her voice. "Did the two of you have a fight?"

"I don't think so."

Moira frowned behind her back. "Really?"

"Am I allowed to shrug?"

"No."

"Hm." Fern's jaw twitched. She genuinely couldn't think of what Raven might have been mad about. As Moira measured her back and waist, she thought aloud, "Maybe because I thought about lying to my mom? Or because I said Angel could fuck off, but I don't see how…"

Fern's voice trailed off as she remembered what she had said about Raven before Shaw attacked. How she had said Raven was hiding and a hypocrite and felt her skin swirl with shame.

Moira smirked, enjoying the recognition on Fern's face as the girl's skin changed in the bright light. As it caught and reflected the colors around it, she bit her lip. "Something wrong?"

"No," Fern snapped over her shoulder at her. "Are you done yet?"

"We've barely started." The woman moved over to the bed and jotted down Fern's waist, shoulder and bust sizes. With a pensive frown, she handed the notebook to the grey skinned girl. "Here, Hank said he wanted an outline of where your glands are."

Disgruntled, Fern all but snatched the book from her. It wasn't that she was mad at Moira, she wasn't, but she didn't like to be reminded of her failures…and her relationship with Raven was most certainly a failure. She had been so excited to meet someone like herself and all Fern had done since meeting her, was judge her and piss the blonde (redhead, whatever Raven decided to be) off. As she sketched a crude outline of her figure, Fern asked, "Was she mad?"

"More hurt."

"Hm." Fern licked her lips and outlined the parts of her arms where she had her glands as Moira wrapped the tape measure around the widest part of her hips. "I'll talk to her. Are we done yet?"

"No, I still have to do your arms and inseam."

The girl groaned, but stayed still. For about five seconds before she restlessly rolled her hips.

The woman gave her thigh a light smack as she pulled the tape away. "Stop that."

"This is taking forever."

Moira rolled her eyes. "Spread your legs. I'll get your inseam and we can be done."

Biting back a dirty comment, Fern did as she was told. Moira eyed her legs with interest, letting her fingers skim over the glands on the outside of her thigh tentatively before moving to take her inseam. The girl started at how close the woman's hand got to her crotch, but said nothing. Just glared at the tiny brunette between her legs.

"There." Moira stood and took the notebook from the young woman. "All done. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Did you just feel me up?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "I was-"

"Whatever. You can go now." Fern waved a dismissive hand at her and moved to pull her pants back on.

With her back turned, she didn't notice the smirk on Moira's lips as she slipped out the door. As it closed behind her, Moira's dark hair lengthened and lightened, transforming back into the blonde mane that Raven so preferred.

After twenty minutes of pouting, Fern eventually decided it was time to pay her mother her promised phone call. When she got there, she was met with the sight of Alex picking through the fridge with a scowl.

"Hey," the girl greeted absently as she went around him to where the phone was nailed to the wall.

Alex glanced up at her. "Hey." Pulling his head from the fridge, he asked, "How'd things go with Erik?"

"Oh, they were just fuckin' peachy." She hopped onto the ledge of the bay window and hung on with her toes. Knees bent and hands clasped together, Fern crouched with her elbows tucked in at her sides. "How'd things go with Hank?"

The boy eyed her strange posture and weird feet with a hint of wariness, but pushed aside his rude comment. "Not great."

Sympathetic, but unsurprised, she nodded. "Hm." Jerking her head in the vague direction of one of the drawers, she asked him to throw her a knife.

With an arched eyebrow, Alex did. He watched her catch the blade of it with a mere touch of her sticky fingers and watched with a hint of curiosity as she stood. With the tips of her toes clinging to the sill and the balls of her feet bearing her weight with ease, she leaned over to stick the knife in the finger hole of the rotatory phone.

"Calling your mom?" He asked.

"Yep."

Alex nodded, neither approving nor disapproving and stuck his head back in the fridge. He didn't think of his parents, who he hadn't seen in over a year or his younger brother who thought he was away at college. He just grabbed a carton of milk and pretended it didn't bother him that the freak had a family and he didn't. Blinking, he recalled what Darwin had said about her, about her getting harassed and felt a hint of shame. It colored his pale cheeks as he pulled his head out of the fridge.

Fern barely noticed. With the phone tucked against her shoulder, she dragged the tip of the knife over her palm. Each movement electing a very quiet 'tink' sound as it skipped over her scales. Rolling her eyes, the young woman sighed. Her mother clearly wasn't home. With her sharp teeth ground together, she hung up the receiver and hopped off the window sill.

"No answer?"

Biting back the rude reply that welled in her throat, Fern merely nodded. If Alex could be civil, so could she. Sliding into the seat across from him, she rested her chin on her hand and stared at him. Objectively, she supposed him attractive. She didn't know much about society's standards of beauty beyond that she didn't fit them, but she had seen a few magazines. A few issues of Rampant and Teen and she was fairly certain Alex was good looking; with his blond hair and strong features and affinity for leather jackets. Fern wondered why Raven wasn't with him instead of Hank- and then remembered how much Alex disliked physical mutations. With pursed lips, she tilted her head and watched him eat his cereal.

The blond bristled slightly under her gaze. Or at least, he was fairly sure was her gaze. It was kind of hard to tell what exactly she was looking at (no pupils). "What?"

"Nothing."

"Than why are you staring at me?" He snapped, a faintly embarrassed blush rising on his tan cheeks.

"We've never been this close before." Fern shrugged. She rested her scaled cheeks on the heels of her bare hands and squirmed in her seat. Tilting her head, she slipped her toes on the brace of her chair and explained, "I'm curious."

"About what?"

"Lots of stuff."

Rolling his eyes, Alex let out a long sigh and let his spoon fall with a clatter into his bowl. "Like what?"

"Like why you don't like me and Hank…or yourself all that much, really." Fern ignored his gaping and how he glared at her. "Is it the mutant thing? It seems like a lot of us don't like the mutant thing."

"Maybe I don't like you because you're a pushy bitch."

Fern's curious visage dropped into a hurt frown. The skin of her face swirled black and white as she stumbled over her words, "I wasn't trying to-" Flustered and embarrassed, she snapped, "You asked!"

"Yeah, but you're not supposed to be honest when people ask that kind of stuff." Alex stood briskly from the table. Irritated and a bit uncomfortable with the attention, he rolled his shoulders. "God, didn't your mother teach you anything?"

Baring her teeth at him, the girl glared at him. "Yeah, honesty is the best policy!"

"You're an idiot."

Leaning forward, she spat at him, "At least I don't hate myself."

The boy glared at her a long moment. Fern's shoulders slowly fell under his stare and her skin mellowed. With a sigh, she hugged herself and stubbornly dropped her gaze to the table. He went to pass her, to storm out of the kitchen, but Fern's quiet apology stopped him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not used to being around people yet. Next time I'll lie."

Rolling his blue eyes, the young man turned back to her. From the back, Fern looked fairly normal. Her black hair hid her neck and the rest of her bizarre skin was covered by her pajamas and Alex grit his teeth as he came back around to the table. Falling into the seat across from her, he ignored her hopeful expression and conceded with a nod. "Me too."

"Truce?" Fern offered her hand to him. When he stared at it with distaste, she wiggled her fingers at him. "Take my hand, Summers. You know you're curious."

Annoyed that he was, Alex wrinkled his nose and took it. The skin felt just as strange as he had thought it would be, but the girl beamed at him. As he eyed her sharp teeth and felt the scrap of her fingertips against his palm, the boy briefly considered having regrets.

Thankfully, Sean came into the kitchen and distracted Alex from having them. "Evening, folks."

The redhead gave Fern's hair a playful tossling as he passed her by, heading straight for the phone and ignoring the withering stare she sent his way. He plucked it from the receiver and stuck it between his shoulder and neck. "How'd things go with Erik and Hank?"

At their answering groans, Sean glanced behind him. Fern had dropped her head to the table and Alex had thrown his head back with the force of his frustration. With a snicker, the redhead dialed a familiar number. "That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea."

"He's the devil."

"Hank isn't the devil, Alex," Sean teased with an impish grin the blond couldn't see. "Trust me, I'm Catholic."

There was a beat of silence before he greeted whoever was on the other end of the line enthusiastically. Alex and Fern shared a look, but the former decided to turn back to his cereal and the latter decided to eavesdrop. Slipping casually from her seat, the grey girl slipped over to the windowsill and pretended to look out it.

Sean rolled his eyes at her terrible, terrible attempt at snooping. "Hey, Mr. T, is Jonah there?"

When Fern bent a bit closer to hear the response, Sean grabbed her and pulled her to his chest. Her skin rippled and spun with embarrassment. With a hard shove, she bounced away from him. Leaning against the window frame with her arms crossed, Fern glare at him. With her legs parallel to her waist, she listened as Sean addressed whomever was on the line.

"Jonah, man, what's up?"

"Sean?!" A young, male voice cut over the line. It was a bit hysterical and rushed, but Sean seemed completely at ease with the panic in it. "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Yeah…" The redhead sighed in a mournful way that was completely and utterly fake. "I'm dropping out."

"What?!"

The redhead gave Fern's ankle a playful squeeze. Winking at her, Sean explained, "I met a girl. We've run off together and are living in sin."

"What?!"

Fern rolled her eyes and jabbed at his side with her toes as Alex snickered behind them.

Batting her foot away, Sean shifted the receiver to his other shoulder. "Can you mail me my stuff?"

"I guess?" His roommate replied, completely bewildered and a bit put out. "I mean, this all seems really sudden, Sean. Have you even told your parents yet?"

The redhead scoffed. "Of course not, what'd you think I am? Stupid?"

Fern jabbed him again, but he merely swatted her toes away.

"Well, what's the address?"

As Sean gave him one that was clearly not in Salem, Alex and Fern shared a curious glance. Picking his bowl up, the blond moved to stand behind the redhead. Sean glared at him, but said nothing as the two of them ganged up on him with their disapproving expressions and hostile cereal eating (at least on Alex's part). Glaring at them, he said a brisk goodbye to his (former) roommate and hung up.

He squinted at them. "What?"

Alex lifted a dubious brow. "You haven't told your parents yet?"

"Are you ashamed of us, Sean?" Fern teased with a wide smile.

"Ugh, you guys are so lame," The redhead declared with a heavy sigh.

With a chuckle, Alex took his bowl of cereal and left the kitchen. Fern, never one to be ignored, hopped up on the counter. Crouching on bended knees, she sang, "I'm not hearing a no there, Cassidy."

Grinning, Sean shook his head as he picked up the phone once more.


	18. Teenagers Have No Inside Voices

With Fern sitting on the table behind him, Sean picked up the phone again. He dialed his older brother, Thomas' number from memory and pushed back the wave of anxiety that rolled over him. He had always gotten along with Thomas. Thomas had been the one to jump out of the closet and literally knock the mutant out of him when he was a kid, but the idea of telling him (or anyone in his family, really) that he was dropping out of college was a daunting one.

After a few seconds, a familiar, lightly accented voice answered, "Hello?"

"Thom!"

"Hey, Sean- shouldn't you be studying?" His brother teased good naturedly. It was his standard greeting. It was everyone in his family's standard greeting and Sean felt his stomach drop even further.

Rubbing the back of his neck, the younger brother groaned. "Yeah, see, here's the thing…"

"Oh, god, did you get expelled?!"

"No! I quit."

"You quit?" There was a pause over the line as the elder Cassidy considered the words.

For Sean, it felt like forever, but Thomas' eventual laugh made his shoulders slump with relief. They tensed again at his words.

"Ma's gonna kill you."

The younger man groaned. "I know!"

With a hint of curiosity, his brother asked, "What were you thinkin' kid?"

"Well, here's the thing…" A light tinkling behind him caught his attention. Sean chanced a glance back at Fern, who was still on the table, but now held a bowl of cereal in her hands. When she motioned for him to continue, the redhead rolled his eyes and did just that. "I'm actually living with a professor now."

Once again, Thomas was quiet a moment before he spoke. His voice calm and a bit hesitant, he asked, "Oh?"

"Yeah, you should see this place," Sean gushed. He looked back at Fern and grinned impishly. "The view is amazing."

She flicked a bit of milk from her spoon at him.

Scowling, he brushed it off his white t-shirt as his brother spoke. Thomas' tone was still uncharacteristically gentle. "I…I didn't know you were one of those fairy types, Sean."

"What?!"

"You could've told me," Thom added with a bit of hurt in his voice. "I wouldn't have told anyone. I never did tell anyone about that other thing."

"I know you didn't- and it's not like that!" The boy shrieked. His hysteria earned a chuckle from the young woman behind him. A sound which only served to make his cheeks even redder and his voice even higher. "I like girls! There are girls here! There's a whole group of us!"

His elder brother hummed with doubt. "Sure there are."

"There are!" Sean swirled back to look at one of said girls. "Fe! Fe tell him I'm straight."

Not knowing and not caring what straight was, Fern just stared at him as she, like Alex before her, took another slow, condescending bite of her cereal.

His blue eyes narrowed on her. "Goddamn it, Fe."

Grinning, Fern licked the back of her spoon and said nothing.

Watching her scaled skin twirl with delight (central to her chest and face, he noticed, although her arms still flickered to a lesser degree), Sean forced back a smile of his own. Into the receiver, he said, "There are girls here, I swear. They're just really inconsiderate."

The girl rolled her eyes.

Curious (and no longer doubting his little brother's sexuality), Thomas asked if he had met them at school.

Once again Sean faltered. "Well, not exactly. They approached me at the aquarium."

"They approached you?" His elder brother repeated, voice heavy with skepticism and dread.

"Yeah, they're like me."

"Like- oh, oh! They can…you know, too?"

"Well, not exactly…" Sean rubbed the back of his neck. The heat was slowly draining from his face and his cheeks had paled completely as he continued, "But they're unique in their own ways."

A soft laugh from behind him made his cheeks flare up once more. "Nice save, Cassidy."

"Shut up, Fern."

On the other end of the line, Thomas chuckled with relief. "And here I thought you'd joined some kinda cult!"

Sean rolled his eyes. Behind him, Fern set her bowl down.

"I'm happy for you, little brother, no matter what your lifestyle is."

When the redhead only glared ahead of him a few seconds, Fern took it upon herself to pluck the phone from his clenched hand. She slipped between him and the wall and fiddled with the stupid rotary dial. Voice nonchalant, she told Thomas, "He likes girls and if he doesn't he has a lot of explaining to do."

Behind her Sean wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple. Fern's skin flickered with embarrassment and discomfort (over her cheeks and neck especially), but she didn't move from his hold. Voice teasing, he gave her a light squeeze, "Thanks, babe."

Fern shoved his face away from her own. "Shut up, Sean."

"Oh," Thomas chuckled over the line. "You sound like a keeper."

"I am, thank you," The girl replied with a hint of pride. Spinning to face the boy behind her, she smirked at him. Planting her foot on his stomach, she gently pushed him back a touch.

Fingers circling her ankle, Sean leaned closer to the receiver. "What'd he say?"

"He said shut up, Sean."

The redhead glared at her and ripped the phone from her hands. Knocking her away with his hip, he bid his brother a quick goodbye before he hung up. Head thrown back, Sean whined, "He thinks I'm a homo."

"A what?"

"A homo- you know, a homosexual?" When Fern only shrugged with confusion, he explained, "Someone who only likes their own gender?"

Fern's blue eyes drastically widened. "That's an option?!"

A bit put out, Sean pouted. "Uh, yeah, but I don't think it's something you get to choose, Fe."

The girl's shoulders slumped with disappointment. Outside of Sean, she seemed to get along better with women than men. "Oh."

"Why…are you…attracted…to women?" The young man asked with the worst attempt at nonchalance Fern had ever seen.

Lifting a thin brow, she pushed him back a bit further. "No."

Expression considerably bright, he asked "So you like men then?"

The grey skinned mutant lifted an uncommitted shoulder. "Not many of them. I mean, you're okay."

Sean leveled his gaze and pursed his lips in an exaggerated pout. Knocking her foot away from him, he turned away from her. "Thanks, Fe. You really know how to make a guy feel special."

"Well, I try." Fern plucked the forgotten receiver off the hook and grabbed the boy by the collar of his white t-shirt. Yanking him back to the phone, she ordered, "Dial for me."

Sean grunted but did as he was told. Ticking off the numbers as she dictated them, he pouted. When Fern saw, she checked their shoulders together. The boy glared at her, but stayed quiet as she greeted her mother.

Muttering under his breath about someone's lack of tact, the redhead drifted over to the fridge. He snatched the bottle of milk and began to chug it down. His blue eyes drifted over to Fern.

She was absently twiddling the cord between her fingers as she rocked on the balls of her feet. His gaze drifted from her toes to her legs and he remembered how she looked in her underwear. A blush rose on his neck as he recalled the lean muscle of her thighs and the strange blocky glands on the outside of her legs and most importantly, her ass. When he realized he was staring, he quickly righted his stare to the ceiling. His thoughts turned to more innocent things, like puppies and rainbows and nuns- and yep, that did it.

"So, learn anything interest today?"

"Yeah…" Fern frowned and glanced back at Sean, who was staring pointedly at the ceiling. "Teenage boys are gross."

Affronted, Sean turned to glare at her. "I'm twenty."

"Shut up."

"Don't tell me to shut up!"

Over the line, Josephine chuckled. "Well, I could'a told ya that, baby."

"Hm. Well, it's getting late, I just wanted to check in before I go to bed."

"Alright. Love you, kid."

"Love you, too." The young woman hung up and glared at the boy a few feet away.

Sean arched his brow as he fiddled with the mouth of the milk bottle. "Your parents tell you they love you?"

"Uh, yeah? Well, my ma does, I never met my dad."

"Oh."

"Do yours not?"

The redhead shrugged. When she kept eying him with interest, Sean forced himself to brighten. Wiggling his eyebrows at her, he asked, "Wanna tuck me in?"

"Wanna get the hell away from me?" Fern replied with an impish grin that flashed her sharp teeth.

His forwardness didn't bother her as much as she would have expected. In fact, it was kind of flattering. Maybe it was because (unlike Erik), Sean didn't seem serious about his flirtations. They were playful and benevolent, with no real weight behind them. He didn't seem to mean them, at least as far as she could tell, and that made them considerably easier for Fern to swallow.

The boy frowned at her. "Harsh."

Rolling her eyes, she nodded to the mouth of the kitchen. "Come on. You can walk me upstairs."

"Well, if you insist." Sean sighed dramatically and offered his arm to her. With a shake of her head, she slipped her arms through his. "No gloves tonight?"

Fern lifted an apathetic shoulder.

As he led her up the stairs, the redhead bumped their shoulders together. "How'd your ma take the news?"

"What news?"

"That you're making friends and falling madly in love with me."

Sighing at his lack of game, the grey girl shook her head. "I'm starting to see why you were striking out at the aquarium."

Sean chuckled. Shrugging his gangly shoulders nonchalantly, he told her, "Well, you win some, you lose some." With a wink, he let go of her arm. "You'll come around eventually, Fe."

"Yeah, whatever." Slapping his hand away when he went to pinch her side, Fern quickly made her way to her room.

It wasn't empty. Inside, Raven sat on her bed with her hands in her lap. The blonde smiled softly at the brunette, completely undeterred by Fern's surprised features. "Hi."

"Hi…" The grey girl gently shut the door behind her. Sticky fingers reached out to grab the wooden chair and she spun it under her. "What're you doing in here?"

Tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, Raven cleared her throat delicately. A bit awkwardly, she told her, "Charles- he wanted me to see what size you are." At the disturbed expression on Fern's face (and how her skin swirled with distaste), Raven explained, "I guess he's ordering us workout clothes, or something."

"Why?"

"I…have no idea. I don't understand half the things he does." Raven stood. Her hands brushed over her skirt, smoothing it as she cleared her throat. "So, um, if you want to tell him yourself, it's fine."

Fern bit her lip. Squeezing her eyes shut, she spoke as Raven opened the door to leave. "Wait."

The blonde paused. Curious, she glanced at the grey skinned girl's back. "Yes?"

"I just…" The Ailey woman swallowed and sniffed. Apologies had never been easy for her. "Wanted to say that I was sorry. For how I acted before Shaw attacked. I shouldn't have yelled at you." Stubbornly, Fern pursed her lips before adding, "Or that stupid traitor, Angel."

Raven shook her head. Expression soft and understanding, she offered the grey girl a weak smirk. "Don't worry about it. It's in the past."

"I still shouldn't have said it. Maybe if I had kept my mouth shut…" Fern shrugged and fiddling with her sharp fingernails.

The blonde frowned and came back around to the bed. Sitting on it, she put her hand on the grey girl's knee. "It's not your fault- Angel still would've gone."

"You don't know that," Fern whispered. Her skin shifted, slowly and subtly, but she could feel it and she cursed her weakness. Angel was supposed to be dead to her. She was supposed to forget all about the laugh they shared in the bunk or how it had been so easy to bond with the pixie. Not being able to push those memories away frustrated Fern to no end and she clamped her sharp teeth down on her bottom lip.

The blonde nodded firmly. Pretty features tense and sad, she sighed. "Yes, I do." With a helpless shrug, Raven told her, "Angel…she'd been objectified for a long time. She was looking for a chance to prove herself."

Fern swallowed. "Ya think?"

Raven nodded.

"Thanks. I'm still sorry." The brunette stood as the blonde did. "I don't blame you for hiding. I wish I could. Seeing you and Angel and everyone else who could pass for normal…it's hard."

"I know." Offering the taller girl a bright smile, Raven drummed her fingers on the door frame as she reached it. "It'll get easier, Fe."

With a dramatic groan, Fern covered her face and flopped onto the bed. "Don't call me that!"

"What? I" The shapeshifter asked innocently. "Is it not as cute when I say it?" Growing taller and paler and considerably more freckled, the now redheaded young man asked in Sean's usual slow drawl, "How 'bout now, babe?"

"Get out of my room!" Fern shrieked. Reaching above her head she grabbed her pillow and hurled it at Raven.

Sean's doppleganger chuckled. "What? If you want I could show you his-"

"That's it!" The grey girl bounced into a sitting position and snapped, "Apology revoked!"

"What? Fern!" Raven gaped at her as she shifted back to her usual blonde form.

The brunette glared at her. "Raven."

"Fern!"

"Raven!"

The blonde stomped her foot. "You can't just take it back!"

"Yes I can!"

"Fern!"

"Raven!"

"Oh my god!" Alex screamed from somewhere down the hall. "Will you both just shut the hell up already?!"

The girls stared at each other a long moment before screaming, "ALEX!"


	19. Smells Like Synthetic Teen Spirit

The kitchen was brightly lit and mostly empty. With most of the crew off sleeping or working out, only Hank and Fern had bothered to come down for a late breakfast. When the two spoke, it was quietly, but for the most part they simply let the silence hang between them. It wasn't awkward, just a bit odd- at least for Hank.

Fern had long since learned the art of shutting up when she had nothing to say and was perfectly content to poke at her burned scrambled eggs without a word between them. The girl frowned, flicking the black edges off her plate into a cup a few inches away.

Hank stared at her. Cheek resting on the palm of his hand, he was mildly impressed by her hand/eye coordination. "So…"

Her blue eyes flitted up to his, but her fork kept knocking the burned eggs into the coffee mug. "So?"

"So, I did some analysis on your…discharge." They both wrinkled their noses at that, but Hank continued in a casual tone, "Did you want to know the findings?"

Fern considered a moment before shrugging. In truth, she had never been terribly curious about her mutation. She had seen what it could do first hand and wanted to know how to control it, not understand it. Still, if the shy boy across from her was making an effort, she supposed she could too. "Sure."

"Well, I haven't had a chance to study it in length yet, but I thought you might like to know it's a neurotoxin." Hank adjusted his glasses. When the grey girl merely blinked at him, he explained, "That means it affects the nervous system. I don't know how potent it is yet, I don't have any control subjects, but I thought you'd like to know."

"So it fucks with people's spines?"

Hank's brows rose at her crass language. "It's a bit more complicated than that; the nervous system consists of brain, spinal cord and the electrochemical impulses throughout the body. In fact it could potentially damage nerve tissue altogether, regardless of where it's located."

"Wow." Fern leaned back in her seat. She wasn't entirely sure why knowing exactly what her skin was capable of made her stomach knot, but it did. Letting the fork clatter against the plate, she let out a long sigh and rubbed a heavy hand over her face. "Sounds serious."

The scientist continued to smile, either oblivious to or perhaps ignoring her discomfort. "It is."

The young woman licked her teeth. With a scoff of irritation, she muttered, "Great."

"It is great!" The scientist beamed at her. Shifting in his chair, he held his hands out in front of him as if to convey the gravity of his words. Fern might have been able to take him more seriously if he wasn't still grinning like a five year old. "Now that we've narrowed down what your uh, poison, is exactly, we can make an antidote; you won't have to worry about touching people so much." He faltered. "Well, I mean, you'll still have to worry, of course, but if you do have a, uh, accident, we should be able to fix it before it causes any permanent damage."

A rueful smile tugged at the girl's lips. "It's poisonous ooze, Hank, not wetting the bed."

"I know, but you know what I meant…don't you?" At her nod, he chuckled and adjusted his glasses. "Good."

The pair shared a smirk but said nothing as Charles and Moira entered the kitchen. The man was dressed in his typical posh British wear (slacks, a waistcoat and a long sleeve white shirt despite the summer heat) but Moira was dressed much more solemnly. Her dress was tea length and black, along with the gloves she wore. The woman's features matched her outfit, somber and serious.

Charles smiled stiffly at the couple at the table before addressing the agent. "What time are you leaving?"

"I have to be at the tarmac for noon."

Fern tapped her fork absently against her plate. With Moira's attention now on her, she asked, "Where are you going?"

"Back to Virginia." The petite brunette tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "They're holding the funerals today."

The girl frowned and dropped her gaze to her plate. She thought of Blake Sullivan, the man in the black suit who had been so kind and genuine to her and her stomach knotted. Squirming in her seat, she kept her head down and let the thin membrane flicker over her eyes.

"For the agents?" Hank asked with a hint of a catch in his voice.

Fern glanced at him then. He offered the grey girl a weak smile before he began to push his eggs around his plate. It occurred to her that the young scientist had probably known a good deal of the men who had died, given that he had worked with them for so long. Licking her teeth, she vaguely wondered how she could show some kind of comfort without touching him. As the other woman spoke, Fern decided to just keep her mouth shut.

"Agent Sullivan." Moira nodded and Charles offered her arm a consoling rub.

After a beat of silence, Fern asked, "Can I come?"

"I'd like to pay my respects as well." Hank looked hopeful and a bit sad. "We weren't exactly close, but I liked Agent Sullivan. He was a good man."

"I don't know how welcome you'd be…" Charles said with a wince. "Given the circumstances in which we left."

Both of them visibly deflated at that.

Moira bristled at that. "Nonsense. They have every right to come."

Some of the fierceness left her gaze when it landed on Fern. The mutant was dressed casually in her pajamas; in flannel pants and a baggy grey sweatshirt that did little to cover her skin (given the sleeves were pushed up to her elbows and the neckhole left one dark grey shoulder exposed). A slight frown on her lips, she asked if the girl had anything appropriate to wear.

"Well, I got cowboy boots."

Moira blinked at her. "I meant like anything black or a dress…"

"Oh." Fern pursed her lips. "No. I don't."

The woman nodded with a hum. Motioning for her, she grinned as the girl stood. With an arm wrapped around Fern's shoulders, Moira told her, "Let's see if I can find you something…"

The girl arched a delicate brow. The expression was surprisingly mute, but her voice was full of amusement as she asked, "Are you going to magically grow half a foot?"

Moira chuckled. "Maybe Raven does."

Fern frowned, but allowed the woman lead her out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She rolled her shoulder, knocking Moira's hand off as she asked whether or not her measurements were okay. "For whatever Hank's cooking up, I mean."

Puzzled, the shorter brunette blinked. "I'm sure they'll be fine?"

"Do you need me to do yours?"

A fine blush crossed Moira's tan features. "Oh, no, I should be fine. I've had clothes tailored before, so…"

Fern nodded, her skin rippling slightly with embarrassment. Licking her teeth, she swallowed back her annoyance. She really should have known better than to assume Moira had been trying to extend some kind of olive branch into friendship when she took her measurements. "Oh, good."

The agent eyed her with a hint of wariness, but didn't comment. Charles had briefed her on all the mutants. Both Fern and Alex had been called antisocial and the Professor had told her to tread lightly with them. Smiling tightly, she said, "Let's see if Raven has anything for you to wear."

The blonde blinked at the women in her doorway. A bit stupefied she repeated, "You're going to the funerals?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" Raven crossed her arms. Holding herself, she thought of Darwin and how brutally the agents had been killed around them and asked, "Why would you want to go back there?"

Fern lifted an uncertain shoulder. "I liked Blake."

"Who?"

The grey girl's large blue eyes narrowed on the blonde. "Agent Sullivan."

"Oh." Raven cleared her throat delicately. She considered a moment, sweeping her gaze over Fern critically. With a hum, she looked to Moira. "Do you have any makeup?"

"Makeup?" The women chorused back at her.

"You know, like foundation?"

The petite brunette nodded with a hint of hesitance. "Well, yes, I do. Why?"

"I was just thinking…maybe we should cover her up a bit. So she doesn't get hassled."

Fern frowned, but said nothing as Moira shook her head. "Oh, Raven, I don't know…"

"It's worth a shot, right?" Her blue eyes went to the mutant in question. "Right?"

The girl licked her teeth and sniffed. "I guess? I've never worn makeup before."

Still, Moira hesitated. "It's just…I don't know if I have enough makeup to cover…everything she'd need covered."

"Please?" Raven begged. "I'll get you some more."

Apparently the fear in the blonde's eyes outweighed the dread in Fern's, because Moira nodded and went to get it. Raven offered her a tight smile and nodded to the bed.

With a heaving sigh and a roll of her eyes, Fern flopped onto it with a scowl. "You really think makeup's gonna fix me?"

Raven frowned. Crossing over to her closet, she began to sort through her clothes. "No, but it might make it easier for you to blend in."

"Couldn't I just wear a hood?"

"No; I think that would just make you even more conspicuous." The blonde hummed, pulled out a dress and considered it as she continued, "Maybe a veil, though, if this doesn't work."

The grey girl let out a scoff of laughter. "Isn't that a little dramatic? What's next, a full length train?"

Raven shook her head and tossed a dark navy dress onto the bed. "Lots of women wear veils to funerals."

"Oh." Fern wrinkled her nose and fiddled with the hem of the dress. It seemed like it would be awfully short. Rolling onto her back, she sighed. "I've never been to one before."

"They're not great," the shapeshifter told her with distaste. She had gone to both Charles' father and mother's funerals. Having never liked either of them, Raven hadn't exactly mourned their loss. "Lots of crying and speeches."

The brunette sighed as Moira returned. The petite agent glanced at the blonde as Raven tossed another dress on the bed. "Any luck?"

The shapeshifter smirked and nudged Fern's leg with a coat hanger. "We won't know until she tries them on."

The grey girl made a low noise of disapproval in the back of her throat. Sitting up, she grabbed the two dresses and slipped into the adjacent bathroom. A scowl crossed her features at the sight of her in the mirror. She could see why Raven was worried. The way her skin rippled and swirled would no doubt attract attention. The thought of going back to Virginia made her stomach knot, but she pushed her dread away.

She had to go back. To pay her respects to Blake. It was only right; he had been kind her and she didn't want to pass up the chance to say goodbye. As superficial as that goodbye may be.

The young woman stripped quickly and shrugged on the navy dress. It hung limply around her shoulders and bust, far too big for her reedy frame compared to Raven's buxom one. Fern stuck her tongue out at her reflection and awkwardly tugged down the bottom of it. It stopped a few inches above her knees and with its cap sleeves, she felt incredibly exposed. This feeling only grew when Raven opened the bathroom door.

The mutant glared as the blonde swept her gaze over her form. Arching a brow, she sneered, "See somethin' ya like, Darkholme?!"

Raven pursed her lips and squinted at Fern's tone. "That's a little…risqué, for a funeral."

The brunette huffed and tugged at the neck hole. "Yeah, I got that."

"Try these," the blonde ordered, shoving a small heap of clothes into the girl's lanky arms. "Oh, and I got you some stockings, too."

"Fantastic," Fern replied dryly.

The shapeshifter only offered her a sarcastic smile before she left.

The moment the door shut, Fern let the clothes fall to the floor. Pushing them around with her toes, she hummed. She was fairly certain that Raven had brought in more clothes than Fern actually owned. With a sigh, she pulled off the dress and picked another one up.

With a frown, she decided she was done. Instead of trying them all on, she simply picked the one with the longest hem and grabbed the nylons. Eying them dubiously, she frowned at how thin the material was. Even the relatively gentle action of rubbing it between her fingers created a small rip in them. A sigh slipped from her lips as she carefully pulled them up her legs. Each scute and gland along the outside of her legs and thighs cut through the stockings and she vaguely hoped they weren't expensive. The material felt odd; too tight and awkward, but she didn't complain as she stepped out of the bathroom.

Only Raven remained in the room. The door was still open, but Moira had disappeared.

The blonde patted the bed next to her. "You look great!"

Fern frowned and shot her a pointed look. "I look like a balloon someone let the air out of."

The blonde winced and fiddled with the jar and compact in her hands. "It's not that bad."

"Yes it is."

Raven offered her a sympathetic smile. "Come on, have a seat."

With a roll of her eyes, the brunette dropped down beside her. Pulling her black hair back, Fern sniffed with distaste as Raven popped open the compact. The grey girl took it from her with a finely arched brow. She had never actually seen make up before. Only ads for it in magazines. Josie didn't wear it and when her aunt came over she never brought it with her. The idea to coat her skin with it to hide from the world had never even crossed her mind. Apprehensive and a bit excited, she leaned over to watch Raven rub a bit of the strange smelling liquid onto the powder puff.

The blonde wasted no time. Swiping the foundation over Fern's cheeks and nose, she ignored the grey girl's flinch.

It smelt synthetic and frankly, horrible. The brunette's nose twitched with disgust, but she stayed quiet as Raven painted her face with the makeup. Toes flexing and her sharp nails digging into her thighs (and further ruining her nylons), Fern resisted the urge to bristle in her seat.

"Don't move," the blonde chastised. Her tone was more amused than annoyed, and a smile stretched over her lips at the Ailey girl's glare. She thumbed a bit of the thick smelly liquid over the girl's jaw and down her thin neck. A thought struck her and her smirk fell. "I hope this doesn't clog your pores."

"I don't have pores." Nose twitching, Fern licked her teeth. "So. Got any plans for the day?"

"I'm supposed to go into town with Sean and Alex to pick up supplies…" Raven eyed her friend's flickering skin with interest. With a devious smirk, her fingers never paused as she asked, "Something wrong?"

"You're just lucky is all."

"I'm not gonna steal your man, Ailey."

"What?"

Raven chuckled at the brunette's wide innocent eyes and swirling skin.

Fern glared at her. "I meant you're lucky to be able to go out so freely." She dropped her gaze and tugged at the hem of her skirt. "You can have Sean for all I care."

The shapeshifter arched a doubtful, somewhat judgemental brow. "Really?"

The grey girl's nose twitched, but she kept her head down. "Hank would be mad."

The blonde rolled her eyes. Passing Fern the liquid foundation, she picked up the compact and began to rub a bit of it onto a powder puff. "Here. Rub this over your neck."

The grey girl scowled and dumped a large slosh of it into her hand.

Raven's hand shot out to grab her wrist before she could slather it on her neck. "What are you doing?!"

"What you said!"

"You're going to ruin your dress!"

"So? I'll make you a new one."

The shapeshifter huffed. With a frown, she watched as Fern rubbed the foundation between her palms and lost all faith in any of the girl's femininity as she, rather unceremoniously, began to smear it over her face and neck.

"See? Doesn't have to take forever." Fern sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. The simple action left only a grey strip visible on her upper lip. The makeup felt cakey and weird, like drying mud. It dug into her scales and felt heavy between the setae of her fingertips. Wiping them on her dress, she ignored the beige streaks it left behind. "There. Done."

For a long moment, Raven just stared at her. Finally, she managed, "Seriously?"

Fern's brows furrowed. "What?"

The blonde rolled her eyes.

"So…" The brunette cleared her throat and stood from the bed. Hands clenching at her sides, she asked, "How do I look?"

The makeup didn't sit evenly on the grey girl's scales. Every tiny seam between them was all the more visible; instead of interlocking smoothly and naturally, the lines looked as though they had been traced into her skin. The foundation cracked along her skin, making her look more like a broken porcelain doll with her large blue eyes and abnormally pale skin.

Still, Raven was unable to see how her scales swirled and glittered with her obvious discomfort. With a shrug, she replied with a weak, "It'll have to do."

"I think I have something that might help."

Both women turned to find Charles standing in the doorway. A box was in his hands and a smirk was on his lips. He shot the shapeshifter a look and asked if she would be so inclined as to help Hank pick something suitable for the funeral. "He seems to be gravitating toward gingham dress shirts."

Raven winced and all but ran to the door. "I'll sort him out."

Fern scratched at her cheek as Charles approached her. He eyed her with a placid smile and told her point blank, "You look ridiculous."

"I knew it!"

He smiled and offered her the box. "But I have the solution. No makeup needed."

The grey girl hummed with doubt, but took it with eager hands. Setting it on the bed with a wide grin, she flipped off the lid. Her expression fell as she eased the garment out of the box. The cartwheel hat was lined with a long black veil. Unsure of what to make of the gift, Fern said simply, "It's a hat."

"It was my mother's." He took it from her and placed it on the young woman's head. "She wore it to my father's funeral and while it is a touch…dramatic, you won't seem out of place among the mourners." He let the thick lace material cloak her face and grinned. "And it's considerably less silly looking than drenching yourself in makeup."

Fern arched a brow behind the curtain and scratched awkwardly at the drying crud on the back of her hand. "Why? I hear women do it all the time."

Charles smirked at her, but said nothing. "Wash it off and find yourself a new dress. You'll be leaving soon."

The girl offered him a brief thumbs up before disappearing into Raven's bathroom.


	20. Considerations and Funerals

After finding a new dress (which, sadly, did not have a hem long enough to reach her knees, much to the grey girl's annoyance), Fern made her way downstairs. Or at least started to when her favorite gangly redhead greeted her at the mouth of the staircase.

Dressed in tight blue jeans and wearing a wide smile, Sean made a show of looking her up and down. Under her usual oversized black overcoat, she was clad in a dress that was a couple sizes too big but still considerably more fitted than what he was used to seeing her in. Approval clear in his eyes and voice, he teased, "Well, well, well, Miss Ailey. Look at you in your glad rags."

The brunette blinked at him. "Huh?"

The boy shook his head and grabbed Fern's gloved hand. Forcing her to spin for him, he tutted his appreciation. "You look nice, Fe."

The grey girl's skin flickered with amusement and embarrassment, but thankfully her veil hid her face. Since he couldn't see her pleased smile, Fern forced her tone to be sarcastic as she replied, "Thanks. I try."

Linking their arms together, Sean fell into step with her and they began down the stairs. "What's with the get up?"

"I'm going to Blake's funeral with Hank and Moira."

The redhead winced. Giving her arm a rub, he muttered, "Heavy."

Fern hummed her agreement.

"When do you leave?"

"Right away, I think."

Sean paused their steps, with him just one below her. Blue eyes shining with sympathy, he thumbed at her gloved fingers. "Do you need anything before you go? Or anything from in town?"

The grey girl smirked at his eagerness and very seriously considered wearing a veil at all times.

Sean squinted. He hated not being able to see her expression. In the short while they had known each other, he had loved being able to read her emotions; not only in her inhumanly large eyes but in how they danced on her skin. Leaning closer, he pressed his face against the black lace with absolutely no regard for her personal space.

Fern resisted the urge to flinch away from him. "Something wrong?"

With a huff, Sean flipped her veil up and pressed their foreheads together. Her scales had a strange grain to them. They were smooth and glasslike, but the moment he shifted a bit closer and went against the seam, they were rough. Still on the stair below her, the redhead had to stretch his neck up to do so. With the lace curtain surrounding them, he beamed at the sight of her wide eyes and glittering skin. "Nope!"

Embarrassed, but enjoying how free he was with his affections, the girl growled, "Get the hell away from me."

"Nope!" Sean circled his arms around her waist and hugged her tight. They were close enough that he could see every variation in the pigment of her blue, pupil-less eyes. Vaguely, he could feel her breasts pressing against his collarbones, but he did his best to ignore them. Popping up on his tiptoes, he chuckled. "Not until you tell me what you want from town." He watched her eyes carefully, noting how the pigments moved and realized she was rolling her eyes at him. With a smile, he continued, "Something to cheer you up."

"I'm cheerful." Fern fought against a smile as she began to squirm in his arms. "I'm practically a fucking Ronette."

"Nah." The skinny redhead pulled back, but kept her veil pushed back. Giving a piece of her black bangs a tug, he teased, "They've got higher hair."

Slapping his hand away, the brunette sidestepped him and continued down the stairs. "True."

Sean smirked but followed without a word.

Moira and Hank waited for the young woman by the door. Fern didn't so much as spare the redhead a glance as she left with them. The young mutant glared at their retreating back, but simply kept on walking to the kitchen. Charles waited for him there, casually cleaning up the mess Hank and Fern had left behind.

"I was wondering when you'd wake," The telepath greeted him with a smirk. He cast Sean a sidelong glance as the boy slid into the table. "Excited about going into town?"

Sean snickered. Rolling his shoulders restlessly, he joked, "Yeah. I think I'm gettin' cabin fever."

"Good thing you'll be leaving soon, then." Charles turned to face him. Leaning against the counter, he watched the student carefully.

The redhead was sitting in a casual pose, his long legs spread with the heel of one foot resting on the bridge of the chair and the other splayed out in front of him, but his expression was hardly so lax. His gaze was distant and the way he fiddled with one of the glasses that lined the table came off as anxious.

"Something the matter?"

"Huh?" Sean blinked and shook his head with a forced chuckle. "No, I mean, it's nothing."

A quick glance in the boy's mind earned a weak, doubtful smile from the Professor. Kicking away from the counter, he placed a hand on Sean's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "They'll be fine. They're with Moira."

The redhead shot him a sarcastic simper and sighed. "Yeah, well, one gun against a hundred isn't exactly good odds."

Charles nodded. "It's only for a few hours." The corner of his mouth quirked up. "And judging by what I've seen from her…encounter with Shaw, I would say Miss Ailey is more than capable of holding her own."

"That's what I'm afraid of…" Sean muttered. He hadn't forgotten how Fern had shot her mouth off and resisted help. How she had been so reckless- shielding them and gushing that strange black ooze that made her afraid of her own body. Stomach in knots, the young man forced himself to brighten. "At least Moira will be there to keep her and Hank in line, right?"

The Professor didn't smile. He just nodded. Raven had already briefed him on the younger mutants' dislike of his…lack of discretion when it came to reading their minds. Still…it didn't take a telepath to know that Sean was worried. Just casual observation would have been enough. In the brief time they had spent together during their bonding exercise, the younger man had worn his typical vibrant mask of friendly confidence- and Charles had seen right through it.

Sean wore his bravado to distract from his fear. From his grief of losing Darwin and his worries that his mutation wouldn't be useful, but he hid it (at least from the others) quite well. It had also been abundantly clear that he had transferred quite a few of those fears onto the Ailey girl. That she would get herself hurt or lose control.

"She's not your responsibility, you know."

Startled, Sean looked up. "She's my friend."

"I know." Charles inclined his head in understanding. His voice had been gentle and he approached the younger man with an open posture. Resting a hand on the table, he pursed his lips. He knew Sean was listening to him, very intently actually, but the boy's face was almost painfully blank. The Professor sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair. "But you shouldn't burden yourself with her wellbeing. It was her decision to come, Sean. What happens is on her."

The redhead dropped his gaze to the glass. Fiddling with the mouth of it, he repeated, "She's my friend." His blue eyes returned to Charles', a bit harder than they had been. "And I'm not going to let anything happen to her if I can help it."

"Obviously." The man smiled, compassionate and warm. "But that doesn't mean you're her keeper."

"I never said I was."

"There's no need to get defensive."

"I'm not getting defensive!" Sean snapped. He slammed the glass down on the table and jumped from the chair. Cheeks flushed red, he swallowed. "I'm just sick of everyone acting like I should treat her like she's made of glass because she's got weird skin!"

Charles frowned. "You're right. She needs someone who's not afraid of her…like Raven isn't. Nor is Erik. You don't have to worry about her making friends, Sean."

Sean eyed sharpened as did his smile. "I think we both know Erik doesn't want to be her friend."

The shorter man barely blinked. "And you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you only looking for friendship or something more?" He crossed his arms. "Because, with the way you treat her, it wouldn't be surprising if she developed an infatuation with you. She's already rather protective of you."

"I know."

"Rather fond of you as well, from what I've heard." The Professor pursed his lips. He eyed Sean's faint blush with concern and sighed. "It's been a long time since Fern has been around people his own age. It's only natural she grow attached to people close by…"

The young mutant's expression became a bit tight, but he stayed quiet.

"So," Charles continued, voice soft and unobtrusive. "If she should make a move, it would be best if you let her down gently."

"Why would I do that?"

Charles gaped with obvious surprise. "Well, apart from the fact that you share a living space-"

"No, I mean, why would I turn her down?" The redhead chanced a glance at the Professor's shocked features and fought against a blush. He wasn't even sure why he was bringing all this up- he liked Fern, but he had never really thought about any kind of future with her. They were barely even friends. She barely even tolerated him- but the idea that she could, that she was protective of him already and already attached made his heart beat a little faster than he would like to admit. "Couldn't we at least try and have some kind of relationship?"

"Oh." Blue eyes wide and clearly thrown by the question, Charles nodded dumbly. "I…I suppose. After all, who am I to deny your right to, uh, fraternize. I just thought…"

Sean arched a thin red brow at him. "That I wouldn't like her because of how she looks?"

The older man chuckled. "You must admit her appearance can be rather jarring."

"Yeah, but I like her." The student cheeks flushed with the admission. "And you know what? I like how she looks. How she can't lie and how her skin changes and how bright her eyes are…is that weird?"

At Sean's anxious expression, Charles smiled. It was nice to see some genuine emotion from the young man. Something that wasn't a fake smile or throwaway joke. Nodding his approval, he told him, "It's lovely. Are you going to tell her?"

"I can't." Sean chuckled and shook his head. "She'd think I was making fun of her."

"I think that when the time comes, if you told her exactly what you said to me just now, she would believe you." The Professor clapped the younger mutant on the shoulder.

"You think?"

"I think."

"Think what?" Alex cut in.

Sean shook his head as his smile widened. "Nothin', man, don't worry about it. You finally ready to go, Summers or did you wanna spend a few more hours fixing your hair?"

The blond glared at him. "Just get in the damn car, Cassidy."

With a snicker, the gangly boy slipped past him, purposely knocking their shoulders together as he passed him by.

To Fern's surprise (and utter joy), the flight they had been scheduled for was being flown by Michael Jacobi. The young mutant spent most of her time in the cockpit, just as she had during her first trip to Virginia.

It was a good distraction for her. Having never been to a funeral before, she wasn't entirely sure what to expect. Hank and Moira had both assured her she wouldn't need to talk to anyone or make any grand speeches, but she still felt she had to say something. It would be wrong to bury a man who had been so unbelievably kind to her without saying something to honor him.

She was still mulling over those possible words when they landed. She bid her pilot friend a heartfelt goodbye and exchanged addresses with him (or rather, she exchanged the address of a P.O box Moira had set up to receive mail from the C.I.A) before she allowed Hank to basically herd her into the town car Moira had called for.

"If we don't leave now, we'll be late," the taller man warned her.

Frowning, Fern nodded and merely offered Michael a weak wave goodbye. She didn't want to be late. It would be disrespectful- both to Blake and to those who had gathered to mourn him.

As it would turn out, she wouldn't have to worry about the latter. Blake Sullivan was being buried in a designated grave at a C.I.A burial site for those whose family didn't make arrangements. There were a few other agents being buried there as well, but all of them had large gatherings of people around the casket. They were covered in flowers and surrounded by sobbing loved ones and Fern felt sick when she realized how utterly alone Blake would be.

Vaguely, she was aware that it was preposterous- the man was dead, what did he care if no one mourned him? But the thought of such a nice man being alone, being buried alone and left unvisited, made her heart ache. Licking her lips, she ignored the slide of her second eyelids.

Only a preacher stood at the base of Blake's coffin (a simple pine box with a Star of David engraved in the wood). Hank slid his hand into her gloved one and gently pulled her forward, closer to the man. Moira joined her side. When the male mutant went to pull away, Fern held tight.

"-and so we ask you to take this man-"

"His name was Blake," Moira told the man. Her voice was thick with tears and she had to swallow them before she went on, "Blake Sullivan."

The preacher nodded, a bit awkwardly and continued, "Please take Blake into your arms and hold him to your light, forever and eternity, Amen."

Fern frowned as the stranger snapped his Bible shut. She had never been to a funeral before, but the entire thing couldn't have taken more than five minutes. That couldn't possibly be right. Blake had been a good man and from what she had heard, a good agent- why wasn't there more? Irritation made her jaw tight as she asked, "Is that it?"

"That's it." Hank sighed. He gave her hand a squeeze and let go. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, an action neither of them were completely comfortable with, but one that was appreciated all the same. "All that's left to do is pay our respects."

The grey girl swallowed, watching as the casket was lowered into the cold, hard ground. Squirming, she moved closer to Hank and tried to keep her voice firm. "How do we do that?"

"You could say something about him, if you like," Moira offered. Her gaze followed the groundskeepers as they walked away to leave the three of them in peace. "Something that reminds you of him, or of how he made you feel."

As she bit her lip, Fern nodded with unease. Clearing her throat, she was glad they couldn't see her scales or her eyes as she spoke, "I didn't know Blake long, but I can say with confidence that he was one of the finest men I ever met. It was an honor just to have known him."

Hank nodded. With a sniff and red eyes, he agreed, "He was the first human who ever found out about…what I was. He never treated me any different. He was still kind to me. He never made me feel…" The young man swallowed. "Like I was a freak."

"Me either," Moira breathed, much to the surprise of the mutants. Ignoring their eyes on her, Moira wiped at the tears that stained her cheeks. "He never treated me like a secretary or a joke. He was…"

"The best," Fern finished, sliding her hand into Moira's and pulling the petite woman closer to her side.

The agent sniffed and let out a breathy laugh. "He really was."

For a few minutes, the trio stood in silence. Finally, Hank broke away from them and reached for a clump of dirt. It was damp and cold and his stomach dropped at the hollow thud it made when it fell onto his friend's casket. With a cringe, he stepped back to let Fern do the same.

The grey mutant licked her teeth as she let go of Moira's hand. As she bent down to grab a fistful of soil, she whispered, "Thank you for trying to protect us."

Hank dropped his gaze as she came to his side. They watched as the human woman repeated the process and without a word between them they went back to the car.

In New York, Sean, Alex and Raven had gathered all the supplies they deemed necessary for the group's survival. With all the work-out clothes and nutritious food Charles had asked for, they decided it was time to have some fun and buy some well needed crap to amuse themselves with. The department store they were in was hardly busy, with only the odd housewife to be found inside.

Sean picked a stuffed animal up from the shelf. It was some kind of little black dog. A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. He remembered Fern mentioning that her mother intended on giving her room away to one of the local strays.

Vaguely, he wondered why he was thinking of Fern when he was hanging out with someone who looked like Raven. His eyes flickered over to where the blonde was picking through a rack of dresses. It wasn't that he disliked Raven. She was nice and bubbly and a bit insecure- Sean supposed they were quite a bit alike in that respect. Still, she didn't seem to need his affections like Fern did. Raven was warm enough on her own; she had no need for it.

Fern…Fern needed it. Fern needed someone who wasn't scared of her and wouldn't judge her and Sean was happy to be that person. He wanted to help her (and the rest of the team) any way he could. Besides, liking Fern came naturally to him. Maybe it was because they were so different. The only thing they seemed to have in common were their senses of humor, but that was enough, more than enough, to make him like her. He liked that she kept an eye out for him and listened to him and played with him when the others wouldn't. It was nice to be able to relax with someone when it was so tense. To have someone to laugh with and tease and he loved being able to see the delight on the grey girl's skin. Even when her expression was muted, Fern's skin spoke volumes. Much like Fern herself, it offered a kind of candid honesty- unadulterated and blunt and Sean felt hopelessly attracted to her.

His eyes flickered back over to the blonde. With a sniff, Sean stepped out of the way of a woman pushing a baby carriage. He lifted the toy up in a good natured greeting and ignored the withering glare she sent his way. Maybe that was why he didn't like Raven; Raven wasn't real. She was a disguise. A disguise of blonde hair and false cheeriness and while he liked her just fine, he couldn't trust a word out of her mouth- because it would be exactly what he wanted to hear.

Nothing would come of it, of course. The redhead was fairly certain that she wasn't emotionally or socially mature enough to even fathom a sexual relationship. Charles was right- Fern was sheltered. She hadn't been around people her own age in years and while she had a certain… allure, she was nothing like his usual type. Too blunt and aggressive but he liked that, too.

The boy felt like an idiot. His fingers dug into the stuffed dog's plush fur and he resisted the urge to tuck it under his chin like a little boy.

Fern didn't like him. Fern didn't like anybody she just tolerated him and he knew that at times his affections made her uncomfortable.

It was part of the reason he was so eager to give them to her, she needed someone who wasn't afraid or disgusted by her like Alex or interested in her the way Erik was. Sean knew the man made her uncomfortable and he never wanted to make her feel that way. Even if it meant they could only be friends.

His gaze flickered over to Alex (who was doing his best to look as bored and aloof as possible) and held up the little dog. "Hey, do you think Fern would like this?"

Summers' blue eyes rolled over to the redhead. They dropped to the stuffed dog and he scoffed. "Oh god, do not go turning into Hank over Frog Girl."

"Don't call her that." Sean bristled. "And she's at a funeral. She should have something nice to come home to."

"Xavier's isn't our home. It's just where we live."

The redhead lifted an absent shoulder. "It wouldn't hurt to get them something nice, would it?" He made the dog nod its head back at him and grinned to himself.

Alex snickered. "Oh, now it's them, huh?"

Cassidy's cheeks went pink. "Shut up, Alex."

"You could fix up the pool for her." The young men turned to find Raven smiling at them from across the aisle. A large bundle of dresses and jumpers and other inherently feminine clothing filled her cart. "We haven't used it in years, but I know she loves to swim."

"So she is a frog." Alex elbowed Sean in the side. "See, I told you so."

Neither of his friends laughed.


	21. Hard Truths

"What'cha workin' on?"

Hank glanced at Fern out of the corner of his eye. She was leaning forward from the back seat with her arm was slung over Moira's headrest. Her grey features were expectant and curious and the young man cleared his throat. "Uh, just some semantics."

"For what?" She tilted her head and blinked at him. "Your jet?"

"The combats suits, actually."

"Oh." Her shoulders slumped. Pretending to still be interested, Fern gave her tongue a quick pass over her teeth. "Were the measurements okay?"

"They were perfect. It seems Raven was very, uh, thorough." Hank nodded his approval, a small, ill contained smile tugging at the corner of his pursed mouth.

The younger woman squinted at him. Skin shimmering with confusion, she repeated, "Raven? But Moira was the one who took my measurements."

The driver blinked as both of them looked at her. Fern with a frown, Hank simply curious. Shaking her head, the accused huffed. "I most certainly did not."

Fern rolled her eyes at the denial. "I think I would remember who had their hands between my legs last night, MacTaggert."

"Well, they weren't mine." Moira chuckled. Her gaze returned to the road as she smirked. "Sorry to disappoint."

The brunette mutant went very quiet and very still. Her scales quivered, then spasmed. They shifted through shades of grey and twisted violently as she slammed back into her seat. As her shoulders hit the leather, she cursed, "The conniving little bitch."

Hank flinched, but the agent only rolled her eyes.

"I knew she just wanted to feel me up! Nobody pays that much attention to the crotch seam!" Hands raking through her black hair, her inhuman eyes were wide with alarm. Sharp teeth ground together, she kicked her feet up on each of their seats and crossed her arms.

"Inseam," Moira corrected casually. She shot the mutant beside her an amused glance. At his flushed features, her smile widened.

Fern barely heard her. "Who arranges their own apology?! You know who does that?!"

"Who does that, Fern?"

Eyes closed and covered with one hand, Hank shook his head. "Don't encourage her."

"I don't know!" The Ailey girl shrieked, her normally silvery voice shrill with exasperation. "I'm legitimately asking!"

"Maybe she thought it would be less awkward." Moira glanced at her in the rear view mirror.

Fern just scowled at her. Completely unimpressed with her answer, the girl just shook her head.

"Or maybe she's a conniving little bitch." The auburn haired woman shrugged in a way that was both passive and yet somehow still incredibly sarcastic. "I don't know, I haven't known her long either."

Hank bristled in the passenger seat. "She's not that bad."

"She used deceit to cop a feel!"

Annoyed, and a bit embarrassed, the young man pouted. "She was trying to get an apology out of you. There was no feel copping."

"There was absolutely feel copping!"

With a sigh, Moira shook her head.

Back at the mansion, Raven had got off to put their crap away whilst Alex and Sean were given the task of cleaning the pool.

"It couldn't hurt to brush up on swimming," Charles told them, shoving brooms and mops into the boys' hands. The Professor glanced over at Erik, who was sitting idly at the island looking woefully unimpressed. "Would it, Erik?"

"Hm."

"Besides, I'm sure Fern will appreciate the gesture," Charles continued. Either ignoring how Alex glared at him or Sean's less than thrilled frown or simply oblivious to it, his smile stayed in place. "And I know I certainly will."

The young men shared a look that spoke volumes of their discontent. It was a look that went unacknowledged. At least until they left the room, after which the look was mocked.

"Honestly, you would think you just sent them off to the front lines the way they go on."

Charles nodded his agreement. "Some manual labor will do them some good. Help them work out their...frustrations."

"So you've noticed Cassidy's little infatuation as well, hm?"

"I would hardly call it an- well, yes, I suppose that's exactly what it is." Charles tapped his fingers along the wooden counter of the island. Eying the man across from him with a hint of suspicion, he told him, "He seems to think you have a soft spot for her as well."

"What? Does he see me as competition?" A wicked smile crossed Erik's lips at the very idea of Cassidy thinking they were in the same league.

The shorter man frowned. "Let's just say he doesn't exactly see you in the best light."

Smug, Erik hummed. "How troubling."

"We're supposed to be a team. It wouldn't hurt to show that your intentions with the Ailey girl are innocent." He waited a beat, perhaps waiting for some kind of denial, but only arched a brow at the man's chuckle.

Eyes a bit tight and smile wide, Erik asked, "And who says they are?"

"I know you have a certain degree of...attraction to physical mutations, but the girls here are too young to be fetishized."

"Raven's nearly your age and I was under the impression that Fern was a legal adult. Old enough to make her own decisions as it were."

"With a girl like that, the type of decisions she makes are always going to be skewed by the situation at hand, because she doesn't know better. Fern doesn't know anything about romantic relationship and it would be worrisome to see someone take advantage of that naivety for their own...personal gain," The Professor finished, voice a bit rough with annoyance and disgust. His blue eyes were sharp, angry, and his mouth a thin line.

"So what? She's off limits?"

"She's already made it perfectly clear she's not a fan."

Erik scoffed. With a roll of his eyes, he asked, "Did you give this speech to Cassidy too or am I special?"

"I did..." The Professor paused a moment before he clarified, "Tell him that it wouldn't be in Fern's best interest to rush anything, I mean."

"But you didn't forbid him like you are me?"

"I'm not forbidding anything. You're both adults, you're free to do as you please." Charles held a hand out between them. "So long as you know when to stop."

A brow rose at the man's stiff posture. "And when should I stop?"

Charles' gaze sharpened. "The moment she expresses any kind of discomfort, I expect you to respect her."

"She's not your sister, you know. You don't have to treat her like you would Raven-" Erik snapped his fingers. "Wait. She's not your sister either, now is she, Charles?"

"As long as they're living under my roof, they're my responsibility. This is supposed to be a safe place, Erik."

The taller man's eyes rolled before he kicked out of his seat. Peering down at the Brit with sharp eyes, he pulled his lips back in a sneer of a grin. "You'd think I'm some kind of villain, the way you go on."

"Of course not." Charles sighed as Erik brushed past him. As he left the kitchen, the Professor called after him, "I just want things to go smoothly!"

"For who?" The German shot back, but didn't bother to face him. Just continued on his way.

The ride back to New York took longer than expected. The trio had taken to stopping every hour or so to stretch their legs, but that had hardly put a dent in their travel time. No, they were late getting back because after some well-meaning peer pressure, Fern had crashed the town car into a ditch.

"I am so, so, so sorry!" The grey girl gushed. Her skin was a blur of black and white swirls as she fisted her hair. Her hat, veil, gloves and shoes had long since been discarded. Thrown into the backseat and ignored, which ironically is what had led to the crash. "I told you I couldn't drive!"

Moira chuckled with a wave of her hand. "It's fine. If anything you should be apologizing to Hank."

Fern spun around to where Hank had lifted the back bumper of the Lincoln and was casually pulling it out of the trench with his inhuman strength. He arched a brow at the lanky mutant's sudden appearance by his side, but merely shook his head at her obvious embarrassment.

"Oh, it's really no trouble at all." He grinned at her. To prove his point, he let a hand fall to his side. His remaining one continued to drag the car out of the ditch with ease, and Fern was glad to see that he hadn't so much as broke a sweat.

She nodded. Remembering how uncomfortable Hank was with his abilities, Fern decided to take a moment to boost the young scientist's confidence a bit. "I wish I had a useful mutation."

"Pardon?"

"Super strength," The girl clarified. Hopping onto the trunk, she used her toes to cling to the smooth metal. As she crouched down, she rested an elbow on her knee and continued, "All I can do is leave footprints everywhere and occasionally scare my mother." After a moment, she nodded with a hint of indignation in her expression and voice, "And I guess I can add makes your foot stick to the gas pedal and nearly kill all your friends to its drawbacks."

Hank beamed at her and kept his gaze on her face and not where her dress had ridden up around her thighs. With a hint of cockiness, he repeated, "We're friends?"

Fern glared at him. "I think you're missing the point."

"No one made you take your shoes off." He shrugged as they finally reached the roadside and set the car down.

Moira clapped. With a warm smile and a hint of a laugh in her voice, she praised, "Our hero!"

The young man blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I try."

Smirking at the two of them, Fern hopped off the back of the trunk. "Again, sorry."

"It's fine." Moira squeezed the girl's shoulders. "Now get in the back, it's time to go. I'm sure we've worried them enough."

By the time the trio made it back to the mansion, the sun had long since set. The human was the first through the door, with two exhausted kids trailing behind her. They muttered their goodnights and parted ways. Moira made a beeline to the closest bathroom and Hank to the kitchen while Fern locked the door. With a sigh, the young woman leaned her forehead against it for a moment. The brim of her hat bent with her neck. Her legs ached from being cramped in the backseat, but her breasts were feeling better. She guessed that was a plus. With a heavy sigh, she kicked off her boots, picked them up and straightened.

Half asleep, she went to go up the stairs when the faint sound of the television from the den stopped her. A familiar redhead sat in front of it, fiddling with one of the dials and Fern had to resist the urge to sigh at him.

Licking her teeth, she stepped into the room. Sean didn't notice her right away, so she cleared her throat. He didn't bother to look at her, so Fern forced herself to socialize. "Can't sleep?"

"Nope." He didn't tear his eyes away from the screen. It lit his freckled features up in the dark room, shining in his blue eyes and making him seem all the paler. "It's too quiet here."

Fern listened for a moment. She could hear Hank in the kitchen and people walking around upstairs. Having grown up in what was basically the woods, she supposed the mansion to be a rather lively place. Almost loud, but she could understand how it might be strange to him. With a shrug, she moved a little further into the room. "I guess if you're used to roommates it might be."

The boy's gaze shifted over to her. Her scales caught the light from the television. They gleamed, reflecting even the darkest shades white. He seemed to consider something a moment before he sat back against the front of the couch. "Come sit with me."

A crooked grin pulled at the corner of Fern's mouth. Shifting her cowboy boots from one arm to the other, she arched a near invisible brow at him. "Now why would I do something like that?"

Her smile went unreturned. Instead the young man just blinked at her. "Because I'm scared and a little lonely and I know you are too."

Unable to argue with that, she moved to join him. Tossing her hat and boots onto the couch behind him, the grey girl dropped to the floor. She didn't want to hide from Sean. He had been good to her, accepting of her and she was through hiding her fondness for him. Life was too short to live behind a veil.

Sean threw an arm over her shoulders. She supposed he must be rather desperate for affection. Coming from a big family, there had probably been no escaping the physical aspect of it. The hugs and playful pinches and patronizing hair ruffles. Frankly the idea of multiple people having some kind of monopoly on touching her sounded like a layer Dante had missed, but she didn't see the harm in indulging him.

Tilting her head down to his shoulder, the girl stayed quiet as Sean sighed. His arm tightened around her. His head fell to rest on hers. It was a little smothering, but not unbearable. The way he thumbed at the glands on her bicep was a little distracting. The skin of them almost too sensitive to tease, even gently. Still, she kept quiet. It was nice, and if Sean needed someone to be nice to, Fern would oblige.

"Do you think we can do it?" His blue eyes searched her face. "Beat Shaw?"

Unable to lie when he seemed so sincere, Fern lifted a weak shoulder. "Probably not. Sometimes ya just gotta take a stand, ya know?"

Sean nodded. With a sigh, he set his brow against hers once more. His fingers found her hair. It was fine and smooth and he thumbed through it as he told her, "I'm sorry about your friend, Agent Sullivan."

"His name was Blake."

"I'm sorry about Blake," He corrected.

Fern leaned deeper into his arms. Burying her face in his neck, she ignored how her throat burned as she muttered, "I've never known anyone who's died before."

"I know it's hard." And he did. He could still remember losing Teresa when she was only a few months old. He could remember the strange hollow feeling and how cold everything seemed after burying someone you loved, but that would fade. Slowly but surely, the heart healed. The redhead pressed his lips to the girl's temple. "You'll be alright."

Unsure how to respond to the intimate touch, her lips pursed. Annoyed by the prospect of waiting and too tired to hide it, the girl huffed. "It doesn't feel like it." At the squeeze around her shoulder, her throat tightened further. Pulling her face from his neck, she admitted, "I haven't felt like this since I was a kid." Her shoulders rolled restlessly under his arm. Jaw tight, she let out a frustrated grunt. "So helpless and stupid."

Sean let his head fall back against the couch. As he stared up at the ceiling, he repeated, "Stupid?"

Fern was quiet a moment. She thought of Blake and Darwin and Angel. How she had laughed with them, how they had comforted her and she felt…lost, knowing they weren't coming back. That the boy sitting next to her might not come back. The thought made her skin twitch and her stomach ache. She had lost enough people in the last two days to last a life time and the thought of Sean, or anyone in the mansion, not coming back from whatever battle they were heading into, left her cold. "For letting them get close."

"That doesn't make you stupid, Fe, it makes you human."

"But we're not human." Raking her hand through her hair, she licked her teeth. With a shake of her head, she sighed. "I should've known better."

Sean sat up. His hand covered her knee and he gave it a squeeze. When she met his gaze with an unimpressed glare, he grinned. "You can't spend your life locked away, babe. It's not fair." At her puzzled head tilt, he carried on, "You shouldn't deny bums like me a chance to know someone as outta sight as you."

A small smile tugged at her thin lips. Her hands covered his and she shook her head. Large eyes warm, she told him, "You are so weird, Cassidy."

"Like, a good weird or…?" Sean raised his brows expectantly, but the younger woman just smirked fondly at him. A grinned tugged at his lips as he watched her skin, or scales, or whatever it was she had, swirl delicately under the glow of the television. "What? Seriously, finish your sentence, you're hurting my feelings."

One of her hands left his and she gave his cheek a gentle pinch. "The best weird."

His pale skin flushed under the scales of her palm. Dropping his gaze, he tried and failed to convey nonchalance. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She let her hand drop.

Voice low, Sean laced their fingers together on her knee. "Thanks for staying with me."

Shrugging, Fern suppressed a yawn. "Happy to."

In the dim light of the television, the young woman's eyes drooped. Sean thumbed through her hair a moment. Enjoying the affection he offered after a long, stressful day, she leaned into his touch with a demure smile. The ginger dropped his lips to her brow, the kiss brief but firm before he stood. "Come on, let's try and get some sleep."

A bit stupefied by his intimate touch, Fern did her best to shake off her shock. Taking the hand that was offered to her, she scoffed at him. "Don't you get forward with me, Cassidy."

"Hey!" He grinned and turned off the television. "What happened to you're the best?"

Fern grabbed her belongings. Planting the large brimmed hat back on her head, she offered him a bright, but crooked grin that flashed sharp white teeth. "Kind of weird. Still weird, Red."

Sean set a hand on her back and led her toward the door. Pouting, he told her, "I'll have you know any woman would be lucky to have me. I'm a total catch."

The brunette shook her head but couldn't help but agree with him.

"Aw," the boy cooed at her as they stepped into the light of the hall. He took her hand and forced her to spin for him, just like he had that morning. "Look at you, all fancy while I'm standin' here in my grubs."

"Your what?"

"You know…" he gestured to his baggy sweats. "My grubs."

The girl stared at him a long moment before shaking her head. "It's too late for your nonsense, Sean."

"It's not nonsense, it's slang. It's the language of the people, Fern." He took her hand and put it on his chest. "Come join the people."

She chuckled and shoved him back. "Go to bed."

The ginger boy offered her a saucy grin. "Is that an invitation?"

"Your own bed!" She tussled his hair affectionately, the pads on her fingertips skimming his scalp in a way that made him shudder. Fern didn't notice. "Get some sleep."

"Fine." He pulled her in for a hug. Voice soft, he dropped his head to hers (forcing the brim of her hat in the process), "I hope you feel better, Fe."

"Thanks. I hope you do too." She pulled back from him and gave his shoulders a squeeze. "It's gonna be okay. And if it's not and we die…we won't care. Because we'll be dead."

Sean's thin brows rose at her. "Wow, you are terrible at condolences."

"You should've heard my eulogy."

"Oh god."

She rolled her eyes at his dramatic wince. "Goodnight, Sean."

"Goodnight, Fern." He gave her hip a squeeze and pressed another kiss to her temple before they parted ways.


	22. Expectations and Limitations

There was a pile of clothes on her bed. No, not a pile, a mass of clothes on her bed. With a scowl, Fern yanked her dress over her head. For a few moments, the young mutant only stood there in her underwear, staring at the mess of unwanted fabric. It was certainly more clothes than she had brought with her, and most likely more clothes than she even owned. Not wanting to deal with the hassle of putting them away, Fern crawled on top of the mass. Muttering under her breath about boundaries, she settled down to sleep.

Meanwhile, Sean had taken a detour. He had been on his way up to the third floor, where his wonderful bed waited for him, when he passed by the lab. Or rather, the room Hank had taken to calling a lab. It was really just a library with a few tables inside. None of it seemed very private or professional, so the redhead didn't bother to knock. The door had been open and to Sean, that was basically an invitation.

Hank sat at a microscope with his lips pressed into a firm line as he peered into it. At first, he didn't notice the young man. Sean's feet were disturbingly quiet on the carpeted floor.

The ginger leaned over his shoulder, but couldn't make out what Hank was jotting down.

"What'cha doin', McCoy?"

Hank jerked. Glaring at him, the scientist blushed and covered his work with two shaky hands. "Nothing!"

"If it's nothing why are you hiding it? Come on, let me see."

With a sigh, the brunet offered the pad of paper.

Sean took it from him with a grin. His gaze flickered around the page, curious and a bit intrigued. "A costume? You're making a costume?"

"A standard one, for all of us." Hank cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. Despite his nonchalance, his pale cheeks were a fiery red. "Charles suggested it. Besides being modified to fit our individual abilities, they'll also provide some protection from any environmental factors we can't account for."

The Cassidy boy nodded. "Cool."

Hank shot him a wary glance. "You really think so?"

"Sure, I mean, at least they're not tights, right? Besides, all the cool superheroes wear costumes, why shouldn't we?"

"I wouldn't call us-"

"Man, don't even." The skinny boy's smile widened. "You have super strength and super speed! All you need to do is learn to fly and shoot lasers out your eyes and you're basically Superman!" Sean pointed to Hank's face with a chuckle. "You've even got the glasses! Clark Kent would be proud."

"Yes, well…" Hank bristled slightly, but an amused smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. It was subtle, as was the hint of embarrassed pink that colored the tips of his ears.

Leaning back against the table, Sean began to flip through the pad. There were sketches for each of them that showed where their powers stemmed from; his throat, Alex's torso, Fern's...body. He frowned slightly at the sketch, of the strange inverted crescents on her hips, the black smudges that ran down her sides. With a hum, he flipped to the next page. It was a standard uniform, simply titled Raven. The body was more curvaceous than the others and Sean didn't resist the urge to smirk at it as he commented, "Seems like you've been busy."

"Yes, well, during the flight I was able to get quite a bit done."

A thin ginger brow lifted in response to his all-too-casual tone. "Oh?"

"Well, the mansion holds more distractions that I originally anticipated."

"Distractions like…" Sean turned the drawing to him and made it dance by lifting either side sporadically. "Raaaaaaaven?"

The blush returned full force to Hank's cheeks. Flustered, the scientist stumbled over his words, "She's just...very curious, about her mutation. She wants to be involved-"

"With you?" The redhead teased, blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

"With the process." He held his hand out expectantly and Sean slid the notepad into it. Nodding, Hank told him, "I should be able to start the details of yours tomorrow, after your session with the Professor."

Cassidy faked surprise with a hand on his chest. "You're making me one of these get ups too? I'm honored, man."

Hank forced back a smile. "I'm making one for each of us."

Sean's features dropped accordingly, but his eyes still crinkled with warmth. "Aw, Hankie Poo, I thought we had somethin' special."

"You should get some sleep." Hank flipped the notepad back open and took a pen out of his front pocket. His blush had died, leaving him pale and composed once more. "I think Charles wants to start with you first thing in the morning."

"Ugh." The redhead knocked his hip against the table. "Why me?"

"I think he originally planned to start with Fern, but she spent the day out of state, so…"

As his voice trailed off, Sean picked it up. "So did you and you're fine."

Pursing his lips, Hank fixed his glasses. His gaze down, he cleared his throat. "Yes, well…"

"You are fine, aren't you?" Sean crossed his gangly arms over his chest. "Fern said the whole thing was a total downer."

"It wasn't fun."

"I'm sorry, man." He clapped the scientist on the shoulder. It was then he realized the bespectacled young man had known the agent the longest and felt compelled to add, "Sullivan was a good guy. Real proud of you, you know?"

With a nod, Hank cleared his throat again. Head down, he was quiet a moment before he agreed, "I know."

"Good. He'd want you to know." His thin brows perked up. A grin cut over his wide mouth and he offered him a playful punch on the shoulder. "And then he'd want you to put the moves on Raven."

With a roll of his blue eyes, McCoy made a point of turning back to his microscope. "Goodnight, Sean."

"Goodnight, Hank."

"Morning," Raven greeted her, disgustingly cheerful for the time of day.

"Morning," the grey girl replied as she opened the fridge. Her voice was still raspy with sleep, her eyes half lidded and heavy and she was vaguely aware that the older woman was not only dressed, but impeccably. Fern found that incredibly obnoxious. Pulling out a bottle of milk, she sniffed, flipped the lid off it with her thumb nail and took a long swig from it.

The blonde wrinkled her nose, but didn't comment. Instead, she moved over to the island. Once seated, Raven put her hands in her lap and continued to be perky.

Much to Fern's dismay.

"So, did you like the clothes?"

"Yeah, they're great, thanks." Too bad I'm never going to wear them, Ailey thought to herself. Tank tops and shorts might be practical for her mutation, but she couldn't imagine running around in some of the rompers and skirts Raven had gifted to her. Still, it was nice a gesture and she appreciate the thought. Wiping he mouth with the back of her hand, the taller girl leaned against the fridge. A smirk flashed sharp teeth. "Not sure about some of the colors though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, the sweats, I mean."

"What about them?"

"They're all grey." Fern moved around to the other side of the table. "If I wear 'em I'm gonna look naked."

The older woman offered her a weak, uncomfortable chuckle. "Oh, right, I hadn't thought of that."

"It's fine." Grabbing an apple from the bowl in front of them, the Ailey girl shrugged. She was still a little miffed about being deceived, but she had decided life was too short to be mad about something so trivial. Blake would've wanted her to make friends. So she put on a warm smile for the woman in front of her, and for herself too, a little bit. "I'm just teasing, Rav."

Raven beamed. Obviously very pleased with herself, she nodded and tucked a strand of long, butter blonde hair behind her ear. "I just thought since you didn't pack a lot…"

"The dog was a nice touch too."

"The dog? Oh, right, that wasn't me. That was Sean." The shapeshifter raised her brows and pursed her lips. Her smile was ill-contained in both her expression and her voice as she went on, "He said you'd like it."

"He was right." Fern shrugged. While she refused to give into Raven's teasing, her skin had other ideas. It rippled with embarrassment, over her cheeks and chest, but her tone was even when she continued, "It's cute."

"He's cute."

The brunette rolled her eyes and took a bite of her apple. Mouth full, a bit of spittle escaped her as she chided, "You're biased."

"How am I biased?" Raven asked. Pouting with annoyance, she wiped a bit of spit from her black, long sleeved shirt.

Fern chewed and swallowed before she bothered to answer. She did this mostly to wind the older woman up, as every second that ticked by seemed to put the blonde before her a little more on edge. Or maybe just more indignant. It was hard to tell, especially because Fern really didn't care. "Because you just want to turn me into someone more pathetic than Hank. Or you. Or either of you when you're in the same room and mooning at each other."

"We do not moon."

"You moon. Frequently and pathetically." Fern sniffed, smirked and fiddled with the skin of her apple. "Even when you're not around he moons, which is impressive. And a little weird."

Visibly pleased by this, Raven straightened up. "Well. Maybe he moons."

"Yeah. Just him." The grey girl rolled her eyes. After taking a few unladylike chomps of her fruit, she sniffed and rubbed her left eye with the back of her hand. "So. What're we up to today?"

"I think the Charles wants to start on your mutations today. While he's having one on one time the rest of us will either be working out or doing bonding exercises."

The brunette huffed and raked a hand through her messy hair. Voice tight, she muttered, "Great."

"They could be fun!"

Fern arched a doubtful brow. "How did yours go with Moira?"

Raven's expression tightened a touch around the mouth. "It was fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine," the blonde repeated firmly. "I heard how things went between you and Erik."

With a huff, Fern reached for the bottle of milk. Before she took a drink from it, she muttered, "Of course you did."

"I don't get why you hate him so much."

"I don't hate him. I just don't trust anyone who sees the world in black and white like that." She winked at the woman across from her. "If you haven't noticed, I kind of live in a shade of grey."

Raven pointed at her with a pristinely manicured fingernail. "You're the one who doesn't trust the government."

"Yeah, well, my history with the government isn't exactly the best." Leaning back in her seat, she sighed as Hank slipped into the room. He was still dressed in his pajamas. Ignoring him, she kept her gaze locked with Raven's. "I have a reason not to trust them, or doctors or skinny boys in lab coats." She pointed to the bespectacled boy behind her and offered him a weak smirk over her shoulder to let him know she meant no harm despite her sharp words. "Humans aren't scary or bad, Rav. He just likes to think they are to fluff his own ego." Fern's clawed fingernail tapped against the glass of her milk bottle. "And I've been at the mercy of men who think they're better than me before. And I never will be again."

The blonde set her cheek on her hand and regarded the girl across from her a moment.

Fern was very composed. Her skin still and her features mild, if not stern, and she seemed very at ease with her words. A statement made off the cuff with deadly seriousness and Raven was impressed with her composure. Shaking her head fondly, the shapeshifter teased, "It's like peeling an onion with you, you know that?"

Fern blinked. "You never asked before. Why would I tell you something you didn't ask?"

"That's all it takes to get something out of you?" Raven shook her head, amused and a bit incredulous. "Asking nicely?"

"Respect goes a long way with my family. It's why Erik hasn't gotten very far." She stood, cracked her back and let out a grunt before she grabbed her milk. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go wake everyone else up."

"Why?"

"Because if I have to be awake at seven in the morning, so do they." Apple in hand, she gestured toward the young man who was sleepily perusing the cupboards. "And because now that Hank's here, you're going to start your lunar cycle and it's too early to deal with all that."

Groggy, Hank took a moment before he repeated, "Lunar cycle?"

The grey mutant didn't bother to answer him and instead left the kitchen.

After finishing her apple, Fern made a beeline for the bedroom closest to her. Several of the ones she tried were empty, with Alex being the lone exception in the wing she had chosen to sleep in. Knocking bristly on his door, she peeked her head inside.

Alex was staring at the ceiling, completely absorbed in his thoughts. He didn't even notice the grey girl knocking, or glaring, or even calling his name, until an apple core smacked him dead in the face.

"What the fuck?!" The young man yelped, flipping over in his bed and tumbling to the floor.

The young woman scoffed at his dramatics. "The Professor says it's time to get up."

"You could have just said that!"

"I did. Several times." Fern crossed over to him and picked up the core. She then opened the window and tossed it into the yard before she looked back at him.

Alex looked woefully unimpressed from where he was glaring at her on the floor. Legs and hips tangled in his sheet, he was naked from the waist up. She wasn't terribly impressed with what she saw, and merely arched a brow when the blond boy sneered at her. "Thanks for the wake up call."

"You're welcome." A bit hesitant, she relayed what Raven had told her, "We're supposed to be working on our abilities today. I just...want to get started, as soon as possible." She gave his naked shoulder a prod with her toes. "Sorry for being so eager."

With a huff, Alex fell back on the floor. Covering his eyes with his hands, he grunted. "What time is it?"

"Time to get your ass up."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," Fern drawled. Offering him a hand, she nodded toward the door. "Come on. You can help me wake up the rest of them."

Sighing, he grabbed her hand. Without her usual leather glove, her fingertips were prickly and strange. Still, he thought of how she and Darwin had gotten along. How the taxi driver had related to her and tried to keep her safe and Alex nodded, more to himself than her. He could pick up where Darwin left off. "Alright, Ailey. Let's do this."

She beamed at him. Her canines and bicuspids were sharp; disturbingly so, but her tone was pleasantly surprised, "Really?"

"What?" He asked, taking the bottle of milk from her and downing a third of it before giving it back.

"Nothing. Come on, You can do Erik while I do Moira."

The blond groaned and covered his face. "Don't say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Just...don't."

Fern rolled her eyes at him, but said nothing. Instead, she asked if he knew where Moira's room was.

"How would I know?"

She shrugged and accepted the milk back from him. "I don't know."

"She's probably with Charles." He threw her a roguish smirk. "Erik, too."

Her brow furrowed. "They're sharing a room?"

"No, it's just- never mind. Come on," He pulled a white t-shirt over his head and steered her toward the door. His hand on her shoulder blade was awkward for both of them.

As they began the trek up the stairs, she glanced at him. Alex offered her a stiff smile in return. Squinting at him, she asked, "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine."

"Then why were you up so early?"

"Why were you up so early?"

"Because I slept on a pile of clothes and woke up with a stiff neck."

His blue eyes narrowed on her. "Why didn't you just put the clothes away and go back to bed?"

"I hadn't thought of that." Fern shrugged. "Too late now, I guess. May as well make everyone else as miserable as me."

The man let out a huff of laughter.

They reached the next floor and broke off in separate directions. The first couple rooms were empty before Alex came across Moira, who answered the door with surprise but not annoyance. The second was Erik, who was considerably less amicable.

Mouth puckered with distaste, he arched a brow at him. "Can I help you?"

"Time to get up," Alex replied, already on his way to the next door.

On the other side of the hall, Fern hadn't bothered with waiting to see if anyone would answer. She simply banged her fist on every door, then took a lap and repeated the process. She then listened to any kind of response (Charles had the decency to let her know the door was open, where Sean had simply yelled some nonsense that she didn't even bother to try to understand).

Satisfied with everyone being awake, she and Alex shared a nod, then went back downstairs.

Raven and Hank were still in the kitchen. Sitting side by side, the blonde was spinning a lock of her hair and the scientist was fiddling with his glasses. They were both blushing and smiling and fucking mooning, but Fern merely smirked and put the milk bottle back in the fridge. Neither of them noticed, but Alex did and he let out a snicker.

The couple, thinking it was directed at them, broke away from one another. Hank cleared his throat, his cheeks going from a soft pink to a sable red as Alex gave him a playful shot in the arm. "Smooth, McCoy. Real smooth."

Raven scoffed at him but before any snide comments could be made, Charles strolled into the kitchen. He was dressed in dark blue pajamas and a matching smoking jacket, with his hands in the pockets. He seemed to have no qualms about being woken up (or perhaps more accurately, interrupted, given his casual greeting in response to the less than gentle knock Fern had given). In fact, a smile lit up his pale features.

"Good morning. I take it you all slept well?" At their affirmant, his grin widened. "Splendid. And you've all had breakfast?"

"I have." Fern jumped up on to the counter.

Charles pursed his lips at the sight of her toes clinging to the marble, but instead nodded his approval at her words. "Glad to hear it. Once the others have eaten, we'll start the day."

"Is there anything I can do in the meantime?"

Alex snickered. "Damn, Ailey, never pegged you for a teacher's pet."

"Damn, Summers, I never pegged it as any of your damn business." She scowled as he passed her by, ruffling her hair as he went. Teeth together, the young brunette glared after him before looking back to their mentor. "Well?"

"I suppose you could get an early start on your strength training." Charles slipped by her to put the kettle on. "I'm afraid I won't be getting to you until this evening."

Perturbed, Fern blinked. "Why?"

"Because if all goes well, you'll be out of commission for the rest of the night."

Again, Alex cut between them with a laugh. Still smirking, he slid into a seat at the island. Hank frowned, but merely huffed with annoyance as the blond reached across from him to grab a banana. Crooked grin in place, Summers leaned back on the stool and jeered, "Well, damn, Charles. You're gonna make Moira jealous."

Raven scoffed at him while Hank blushed.

The Professor's blue eyes narrowed on the smirking younger man. Thankfully, Fern didn't seem to understand the innuendo, at least, if her furrowed brow and curious glance was anything to go by. With a roll of his eyes, Xavier chastised him gently, "Tasteful as always, Alex." His gaze returned to the grey mutant's. "If we're able to activate your mutation on the first try, we wouldn't want to have it rendering you...uncomfortable, for the rest of the day."

"Alright." Fern hopped off the counter and waved them off. "Call me when you need me."

"I had planned-"

"Can't hear you, too far away, bye!" The grey girl replied, quickening her steps before she could be roped into any kind of team building exercise.

It would be hours until anyone found her. Fern had managed to avoid them for most of the day, sneaking into the kitchen sometime after dinner to make herself a quick snack. Her brows rose at the sight of Sean's back. Curious, the young woman watched from the doorway as he spoke into the phone.

His voice was tight and his posture anxious, gangly shoulders drawn up as he rushed, "No, Ma, I just- I know, I know but-"

She watched him rake his fingers through his red hair with a frown.

"But- okay. I didn't- I know you did." Sean cleared his throat and covered his face with a shaky hand. "I can't. I- it's hard to explain. I just can't go back right now."

Fern bit her bottom lip. Maybe it wasn't right to be listening in on what was clearly a very private conversation. The young man flinched and the grey mutant slipped into the kitchen. Arms crossed over her chest, she kept her head down.

"Ma. Ma, don't-okay. Goodbye." Sean let out a long breath as he hung up the phone. Unaware of the eyes on him, he was still a few moments.

The girl swallowed and considered her options. Unsure what to say, Fern moved to put her hand on his shoulder.

He startled at the touch. His bloodshot eyes shot to her face. Her features were receptive and a bit sad and Sean forced himself to smile. Voice rough, he greeted, "Hey, Fe. We were wondering where you got off to."

The brunette pursed her lips. Wiping his wet cheek with the backs of her fingers, she opted to hug him. Sean seemed to be a rather tactical person, and frankly it was the only thing she could think to do that wouldn't seem completely awkward. She had initiated it to be gentle, but he gripped her tight.

Face buried in her shoulder, he sighed. As she ran her hand down his back, over his spine and back up, Sean closed his eyes. "I'm...I'm not a narrowback, am I?"

Unsure of what that was, Fern shook her head. She couldn't think of anything derogatory that would apply to Sean (except maybe clingy at that exact moment). "You're a good guy, Sean." Running her fingers through his shaggy hair, she set her temple against his. "Your mother should be proud of you."

Sean closed his eyes. He pressed tightly against her, one hand sliding up her back to rest against the space between her shoulder and neck, and the other hand pressed firmly against her hips. He let out a shaky breath. "Thanks."

"Don't dismiss me." Setting her hands on his shoulders, she pushed him back. Still, she kept her grip on his shoulders as she shook her head. "I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true."

He tried, and failed, to force back a smile at her ferocity. "No, you wouldn't, would you?"

"I don't know what she said to get you this upset, but whatever it is, she's wrong."

They were close enough that he could see the slight scars on the edges of her bottom lip, to notice the lack of scales on her eyelids and see even the faintest pigments in her eyes. Her expression was firm, but not hard and a kinder smile crossed his lips. Sean shook his head and thumbed her bottom lip. "Thanks, babe."

Clearly surprised by the touch, Fern blinked, but didn't fight him. Instead, she just offered him a puzzled smirk. "How was your training?"

"Loud."

The young woman smiled at him. It was bright, flashing her fanged teeth, and her laughter light. "I heard."

"Did you now?" His grin grew devious as his hands fell to wrap around her waist. He kept his hands respectfully on her waist, so she let him hold her. "'Cause no one's seen you all day. What kinda trouble have you been gettin' up to, Ailey?"

"That's really none of your business."

"Come on." Sean gave her a light shake. "Share with me."

Fern rolled her eyes and shrugged. "I've been keepin' busy."

"Without me?" The redhead arched a brow at her. "Where's the fun in that?"

Shaking her head, she thumbed a piece of his bangs from his blue eyes. He shuddered at the sensation of her setae, but leaned into her palm as she cupped his cheek. "What was your mom so upset about?"

With a sigh, he rubbed his brow. He could still feel her touch. It was a curious, but certainly not bad, thing. "I'm the first in my family to go to college...and the first to drop out."

"Well, she'll have to forgive you when you save the world, right?" The young brunette offered him a grin.

He chuckled. "We'll see."

After a moment, the young woman offered his arms a rub and stepped out of his embrace. Just in time to, as she had barely let him go when Charles entered the kitchen. He arched a brow at their close posture, but merely smirked. "Evening."

The duo murmured their acknowledgements. Sean quickly took a seat at the island and Fern busied herself in the fridge. The Professor fought a grin from his lips at their awkwardness, but didn't address it. Instead, he asked if Fern was ready to start her training.

She slammed the fridge door and spun to face him. "I've been ready all damn day."

"So sorry to keep you waiting. If we had been able to find you, perhaps I would've gotten to you sooner."

Her big eyes narrowed on him. With a hum, she glanced at Sean, who winked at her. Skin fluttering with embarrassment (and maybe a bit of mirth), she shook her head. "I was busy."

"Doing what?" Charles asked with genuine curiosity.

"Avoiding you."

The redhead snickered at Xavier's disapproving hum. He quieted, and hid his smirk behind the back of his hand when the Professor frowned at him.

"Well." Charles' gaze slowly returned to the girl's. "Now that you've finished with that, why don't we begin?"

Fern nodded. "Sounds good to me."

"Splendid." Charles nodded to the boy. "Sean. I suspect you'll find a way to amuse yourself in Miss Ailey's absence?"

"I'll try my best," the mutant replied with a cheeky grin. He nodded to Fern, who rolled her eyes at him, and told her, "I'll see you upstairs, okay, Fe?"

"Great."

Her sarcasm earned a smile from their mentor, who slipped a hand over her shoulder.

He ushered her into his study and closed the door behind them. Fern went in, took a seat behind his desk and looked expectantly at him. Xavier offered her a warm smile. Knowing how eager she was, he got right to the point, "Now, compared to the others, your mutation is going to be more difficult to explore. It's also the only one I haven't and most likely won't, be able to witness personally, god willing. Unless you would mind if I took a gander into your mind?"

Fern rolled her shoulders. Restless, embarrassed, and a bit wary, her skin spasmed as she offered him a cool, "Let's try something else first."

With an incline of his head, Charles slipped into the seat across from her. Leaning forward, he kept calm and composed. A natural contrast to her obvious discomfort. "By and by, it is a defense mechanism first and foremost. It should only trigger when you're under extreme duress."

"So I've noticed." She tapped her sharp inhuman nails on the pristine mahogany desktop.

"With that in mind, I'm going to need to know what would cause you to enter such a state." Expression and posture open, he eased back in his chair. "Please. Spare no details. This is a safe space, what we talk about in here won't leave this room."

The grey girl arched a brow at him. "Alright." With a sniff, she crossed her arms and lifted a foot up to rest on the edge of the desk. "I don't like being around strangers. Especially not being alone with them." Swallowing, she ground her teeth together. "Or being touched. Or, like, doctor stuff."

"And to what extremes do these situations have to be to get your mutation to react?"

"It varies."

"Varies how?"

Nails digging into her arms, Fern hummed. Her toes clenched. Eyes on them, she ignored the tightness in her throat as she shrugged. "It's...hard to explain. I mean, I can be scared and have it not kick in. It kind of has to think there's some kind of physical threat or it just stays off."

"Physical threat?" Charles repeated with interest. "What do you mean by that?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "It means I have to think there's a threat to me physically, to my physical body."

His gaze swept over her form. For a moment, the man was quiet, simply taking in her tense body language and flickering skin. With a hum, he asked, "Why are you so afraid of Hank?"

"I'm not."

"You were. What changed your mind?"

"I could take him." She lifted a glib shoulder and offered him a crooked smile.

Xavier chuckled. "Yes, well, I'm sure he'll be happy to hear that."

Her gaze sharpened on him. "I thought this was confidential?"

"It is, I was merely-"

She waved him off. "I get it, sorry." Lifting her other leg to sit on the edge of her chair, the younger mutant rocked in her seat. "I guess I'm just not scared of him because he hasn't really tried anything...sciencey on me. I mean, he asked a lot of questions but he never tried anything like they did."

"They?" Charles repeated. His voice was gentle, his eyes sincere and Fern kind of wanted to punch him in the face. She decided ignoring him would probably be the best option, but the Professor would have none of it. "Fern? Who are they?"

Bearing her teeth at him, she sneered at his attempt at a soothing tone. At his attempt at nonchalance and naiveté. "Don't act like you haven't already been in my head and seen it."

The man had the audacity to look almost offended by the accusation. "I assure you I haven't."

"Bullshit," She scoffed. Sniffing, she ignored how the membrane flicked over her eyes. "You knew I was adopted, you knew who Casten was. I know you know. Don't play dumb, Chuck, it doesn't suit you."

"Fern-"

"Don't," The grey girl snapped at him as she jerked out of her chair. Long legs carried her around the room in a hurried, ungraceful movement. "I know you probably can't help it, but there's some things that are private. If I wanted you to know, I'd tell you, but I don't, so don't push it, okay?"

He nodded. "Of course." As she prowled around the room behind him, Charles kept his head forward. "Is that a trigger for you? My invasion of your privacy?"

"No. I mean, it's rude as fuck and it pisses me off, but it doesn't scare me."

His blue eyes skirted over to where she circled the desk. His gaze followed her fingernails as they drummed along the top of it as she moved. Tone light, almost disinterested, he offered, "Like Hank does."

"I told you I'm not scared of Hank!" The girl shrieked at him, spinning on her heel and stalking away from him.

"But you don't trust him."

Her voice fell, "I didn't say that."

"But you haven't let him run any kind of experiment on you." The man arched a brow, but didn't look at her. "Any kind of diagnosis of your mutation, like he has the others."

"Well, excuse me for not wanting to be some kind of lab rat!" Fern bristled but kept her back to him as she pretended to be interested in his large bookcase. Running a sharp nail over one, her mouth puckered as it sliced through the thin spine. After a moment, she sliced through another, then one more for good measure. It was a cathartic, sinful little touch, destroying his belongings, but she hardly cared if it came across as petty.

Behind her, her mentor went on. His tone casual, Xavier told her, "He has no intentions of hurting you."

Like she didn't already know that. Huffing, she slammed the book she had been pretending to look at back into place. "I know!"

"He just wants a blood sample."

"He just wants my foot up his ass!"

Charles rolled his eyes at her, but a smirk crossed his mouth at her dramatic huff. "Fern. There's no need for vulgarity."

"Yes there is!" She raked her hands through her hair and fisted the dark strands before she pointed at him. Her finger shook. Her teeth bared and her skin wavered as the membrane covered her eyes. She blinked it away, but couldn't keep her voice from cracking as she sneered, "And there's no need for that self-righteous tone either!"

"Why won't you just let him-"

"Because it won't stop there! First they want blood and hair and skin and then what?! I've given them enough! They can't have any more!" The girl screamed at him, her skin spasming and scales shifting as the dual glands at the base of her neck started to pulse. She slapped a hand over them and winced as black goo began to seep out of them. It coated her palm in a sticky mess, but the poison didn't affect her.

The Professor stood, righted the bottom of his brown vest and moved to stand before her. She jerked back. He stopped, put a hand between them and nodded. "I suppose that's enough for this evening. I'm sorry to have pushed you so far."

Fern shook her head. Annoyed, her skin bristled as she rolled her shoulders like an agitated barn cat. "I came here to learn how to make it stop. I don't need to learn how to make it start, it does that on its own. That's why I don't need to worry about fighting Shaw. I'll get scared the moment I see him and it'll flair up on its own." Her bottom lip quivered. The membrane flickered over her eyes as she shook her head. "I need to learn how to stop it before it starts. I don't want to hurt anyone."

He nodded once more. "I understand. Next time, we'll focus on that."

Hopeful, her brows perked up and her spine straightened. "We will?"

"I promise." Xavier gestured to where a bit of her poison was seeping through her grey t-shirt. "Is there anything I can do?"

Fern sighed and shook her head. "It's already stopping. I just...need to recognize you're not a threat."

"And have you?"

"Kind of." Tossing a thumb over her shoulder, she asked if she could go. When he nodded his consent, the grey mutant slipped out of his study.

Charles watched her go with a sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: thanks to the always fantastic Linda Ku for betaing this! Hope the narrowback line didn't offend anyone.


	23. Insecurities

Sean glanced up as Fern stormed into the room. He watched her slam the door and rake her hands through her hair and huff before he benignly greeted, “Everything okay, Fe?”

The grey mutant jumped and spun around. The boy was sitting casually on her bed, one long leg kicked out on it and his back pressed against her headboard, with her black little stuffed dog pressed to his chest. It was the latter she focused on. 

“That’s mine!”

“I bought it!” Sean pulled the dog closer with a crooked grin. It was then he noticed the black splotches on her baggy t-shirt and he was quick to stand. Tossing the dog aside, he reached for her. “What happened?!”

“I’m fine!” Fern stumbled back from him. The action stopped him in his tracks, but his features remained tight and concerned. At the sincerity in his expression, the young woman swallowed and rubbed the blocky wet glands on her forearm. “Training went bad.”

He frowned as she passed by him, making sure to keep a wide berth before she darted into the bathroom. Before he could get a word out, she had slammed the door shut. A bit annoyed with the brush off, Sean followed her. Or at least tried to; he winced as his chest bumped off the door and he glared down at the handle as he rattled it. “Come on, Fern, open up!”

“No! Go to bed!”

“You go to bed!” The redhead snapped at her. Knocking lightly on the locked door, he sighed and softened his voice, “Come on, Fe, it can’t be that bad. Let me in.”

The young woman’s reply was a bit less hysterical, but still firm. “No. I’m fine. Just...just go to bed.”

“Alright.” Sean nodded to himself and stepped back.

Inside the bathroom, Fern couldn’t look away from the mirror. Or rather, from the reflection of her side, where the patch of her scales gave away to scarred grey flesh. Clawed fingers prodded it. The skin, if it could be called skin, it was more scar tissue, felt queer. Unnatural. She could still remember when they took it, holding her down and using a scalpel to peel the skin back until they could see the white of her bottom rib and then cut it off with a pair of scissors like she was some kind of morbid craft project. There had been no anesthesia, but there had been plenty of blood. She could still see it on their hands as they passed their instruments back and forth and spoke idly above her. They spoke of what could be done about her, could be done with her, but none of them paid Fern any attention. No one had been holding her hand. Hands which had been restrained. Like she was the dangerous one. She had been only five and she could still hear her own screaming, but no one had cared. After that their procedures only got more invasive. 

Her gaze drifted to the thin, barely visible scars on her stomach. The doctors had been careful to cut along the seams of her scales to make them less obvious, but they were still noticeable. The thicker lines between the small plates that didn’t lay quite so perfectly. Still, they weren’t nearly as prominent as they would have been if she had skin, and that was a small blessing.   
The membrane flickered over her eyes as a bit more poison oozed down her throat. Hands shaking, she steadied them on the sink with a heaving sigh. Head down, she rolled on the balls of her feet a moment. 

Her mind drifted back to the farmhouse Josie had raised her in. To how the lake smelt in the summer and how Bruno’s steady panting were the only noise inside the large house at night. She thought of her mother’s perfume and her husky, comforting voice and felt the adrenaline wane. Her mind continued to drift; from the people she had met to the boy outside the door and how concerned Sean had been. His freckled features not quite panicked, not quite accusing, but almost. Like he was angry on her behalf about something she didn’t totally understand.

Strangely enough, even when faced with her at her worst, Sean didn’t seem disgusted by her. He didn’t shy away from her weird, unruly body. He looked her in the face and reached for her like an idiot with absolutely no self-preservation instincts. With a hoarse chuckle, Fern pushed back from the sink. 

Spinning on the ball of her right foot, she used the left to kick the handle of her tub. Hot water gushed from the faucet. After plugging the drain, and dumping a hefty dose of laundry detergent in, the young woman stripped out of her soiled work out clothes. The black ooze made the material cling to her, but the resurgence of adrenaline had been enough to keep it from sticking too tightly to her scales. With a hum, she picked up her cotton shirt as she stepped into the tub. Sinking down into the hot water, her large eyes fluttered as the poison began to dissipate. The dark sludge pulled away from her scales, settling to the white porcelain in thin black dregs.   
Rubbing the thin material of her shirt between the setae of her fingers, Fern sighed. It was so strange that such a...not quite innocuous, but certainly simple liquid could cause so much trouble. A scowl lined her angular features and she threw it across the room. The wet cotton hit the wall with a splat before crumbling to the tile floor. With a deep breath, the mutant squeezed her eyes shut and slipped under the water.

It was an hour before she would get out of the tub and another forty minutes before she left the bathroom. Josie had taught her to always clean up after herself (at least when it came to Fern’s admittedly dangerous...secretions) and the grey girl figured with the sheer lack of boundaries in the mansion, she should probably stick to that habit. So she washed the tub out, scrubbed it, got back in the tub to rinse off all the grime she had got on her from cleaning said tub, rinsed the tub out again and brushed her teeth before going to bed. 

Or at least, starting to go to bed. Fern blinked and pulled the towel tighter around her torso at the sight of the redheaded boy sprawled out on her bed. Sean was snoring steadily on his stomach on the far side on the mattress. A quick glance confirmed that his arm hung over the side and the grey girl inwardly wondered what she should do with him. She could kick him out and have to deal with another one of his annoying do you want to talk about it speeches, or she could let him sleep, but that would mean giving up her bed. 

Mulling over her options, Fern kept her towel tight to her lithe body as she dressed. She kept a stern, distrustful eye on him throughout the process, but the boy stayed oblivious. Once clothed in a pair of baggy sweats, the young woman huffed. She was too exhausted to fight for room in her own bed, but the idea of having another candid chat about feelings kind of made her want to smother him. Grabbing a couple pillows, she pushed Sean as close to the edge of the bed as he could get without falling off before she lined the pillows up against his sleeping form. She then crawled into bed.

With the barrier firmly between them, the two slept peacefully through the night. It was the redhead who woke first, to a stranger’s voice in his head.

“Sean,” Charles greeted him with a hint of amusement. “If you’re done wasting the light, I believe we’re ready to start your next training exercises.”

“I’m up,” the young man grumbled, Irish accent thick from sleep as he rolled onto his back. His eyes fluttered closed a moment, but a brisk “now, Sean” got him moving. 

“Fuckin’ buzzkill.”

“I heard that.”

Sean glared at the empty space above the bed. His gaze shifted from the white ceiling to Fern. Her back was to him, her shoulder length black hair spread out limply on the pillow under her head. She was completely covered, all the way to her wrists and ankles, but her feet were bare. Sean couldn’t see her hands, but he took a moment to enjoy the subtle curve over her waist to the flair of her hip and blushed a touch. 

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He had meant to wait up for her, to talk about what got her so rattled, but it had been a long day and sleep had gotten the better of him. The redhead eyed the pillow barrier with a hint of sadness, but merely leaned over it to press a quick kiss to the back of her head before he left to get ready for the day.

Fern slept well into the morning, until like Sean before her, Charles took the initiative to wake her. He had been a bit weary to, after realizing just how much the secretions seemed to take out of her, but it was time for the day to begin. He called her down to the bunker and after a brief argument about breakfast (she was against, but he was insistent), the young brunette found herself standing in the middle of a bomb shelter with a banana in hand, staring up at a thick rope that extended down from the ceiling. 

The young woman pursed her lips at it before looking to her mentor. “It’s a rope.”

“I’m aware of that.” Charles took hold of it with a nod. “I want you to climb it.”

Scales shimmering with amusement, Fern stared at him while she peeled her banana. “Uh, okay. You know climbing is kind of my thing, right?”

“Yes, I know.” The man visibly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Ignoring this, the grey skinned mutant took a bite of her breakfast and looked up to the ceiling where the rope was secured as Charles continued, “Which is why I want you to leave your gloves and sneakers on while you do it.”

Fern frowned. Still chewing, she asked why.

“I’ve noticed during your strength training that you use your setae more than your muscles.” He pointed to her fingers as she wiggled them at him. “It’s impressive, but not exactly helpful.”

The grey mutant curled her fingers into her palm and tucked them defensively to her chest. “Don’t knock my babies.”

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. “Yes, well, I believe your babies are hindering you from actually gaining muscle mass. I don’t think it’s intentional, it’s clearly just a natural reaction, but you need to work on yourself.”

“You need to work on that attitude.”

“You have an exceptional amount of strength in your legs, but you need to focus on your arms and chest,” The Professor told her as she began to tug on the rope with one hand. As she took the last bite of her banana, Fern tossed the peel to him and began to swing idly on her heels, letting the rope hold her weight. Charles inhaled deeply, but a quick glance in her mind confirmed she was still listening. 

Fern hopped onto it and swung. It reminded her of the tire swing Josie had put up when she had first moved in with her. Feet firm on the knot at the base, she leaned backwards until her spine was fully arched and flipped her feet up above her head. Crossing her legs, she scowled as her shoulder length black hair fell in her face. “So basically you want me to climb the rope.”

“That’s right.”

She glared at him as she moved passed him, back and forth. “With gloves that give me zero traction?”

He smirked at her. “Mhm.”

“So basically, you just want to make me look like an idiot for a couple hours while you get your jollies?”

Charles shook his head. Folding the banana peel up, he wrinkled his nose at its slimy insides as he explained, “Oh, no. I won’t be supervising. I told Hank I would help him with some of the soldering his suits require.”

Fern shrugged. The news didn’t exactly break her heart. “At least I won’t have any witnesses to my humiliation.”

“Speaking of, he thinks he has a prototype ready for you,” Charles pulled a pair of leather gloves from his back pocket and offered them to her. “You just need to have a fitting.”

“Great,” the girl grumbled. She flipped casually off the rope and landed gracefully on her feet. Plucking the gloves from his grasp, she slid them on and nodded to the ceiling. “So I guess I’ll just climb the rope and go play dress up?”

“Sounds like a solid plan of action to me.”

A thought struck her and Fern tilted her head. “Who’s helping you? Train, I mean.”

Charles chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve had my abilities under control for quite some time.”

“But will you be able to weaponize them? Should the need arise?” She mocked his British accent back at him with a sharp toothed smile.

His bright eyes sparkled with mirth, but his lips pressed into a thin line. “You need to stop doing that.”

“What? Being supportive?” She didn’t want to see Charles end up a smear on the pavement like Blake or disintegrated into dust like Darwin.

The man saw her concern and offered her shoulder a reassuring squeeze- and also wiped a bit of banana residue on it. “While I appreciate the sentiment, there’s really no need to worry yourself. I’m quite capable of using my mutation aggressively.”

“Oh yeah?” The girl sneered jovially. “Prove it.”

When Fern came to, she was sprawled out of the ground at his feet. There was no pain, but it was jarring and her skin spasmed with surprise as she nodded. “Alright, good job, I guess.”

“So glad I have your approval.” Charles smirked and helped her to stand. Her black sneakers scraped on the concrete floor, but she got her balance back easily enough. His expression softened, just a touch around the eyes. “And you?”

The girl continued wiping the dirt, or rather ash, from her medium gray sweats. Alex had really done a number on this place, she thought absently. “What about me?”

“Clearly you’re able to call upon… traumatic memories in order to activate your glands.” He frowned as her movements slowed. “Will you be able to have such focus in a stressful environment?”

Fern let out a scoff of laughter. “Get me stressed enough, they’ll do it themselves.”

Charles hummed with a nod. “Yes, well… Enjoy your work out.”

She shook her head as he passed by her. “Thanks, enjoy being pretentious.”

“I will thanks.” He spun on his heel as he reached the doorway. He held the banana peel up. “And please, spare me your thanks for disposing of your trash for you.”

“Thanks!” She called after him, but he had already left. 

Her big blue eyes narrowed on the open door, but the mutant made no move to close it. Instead, she looked back up at the rope. It was attached to a beam on the ceiling. It had to be easily fifty feet high. Unenthused, the girl jumped, grabbed the rope and promptly slid down it.

“God damn it,” she muttered.

It was going to be a long day.

And it was. It was excruciatingly long and after about three hours of trying and failing to climb the stupid thing, Fern had decided it was time to cheat. She didn’t take her gloves off, or her shoes, but she did remove her outer layers. Her sweatshirt didn’t give her much leverage, but losing her pants did. The scales on her inner thighs clung to the rope, giving the grey mutant just enough grip to help her get up the rope.

Too consumed with finally completing her task, she didn’t notice when a man slipped into the room. 

Erik smirked at the sight of her lithe form, wriggling half-naked above him, before he picked up the young woman’s sweats. Slipping them into the crook of his elbow, he took a step back from the rope. Voice rich with amusement, he called up to her, “Lovely form, Ailey!”

The girl jerked and she squeaked as she nearly lost her grip. Her gaze whipped from the ceiling (only a few feet from her reach) to Erik. Features darkening, Fern slackened her grip and slowly slid down the rope. 

“What’re you doing here?” She asked, pulling off her gloves absently. 

He offered her a glib smirk. Blue eyes approving and voice a bit thick, he dropped his gaze to her coltish legs and watched her scales twist with rage. “Just enjoying the view.”

She glanced down at her white jockeys and scowled. Embarrassment flickered over her skin, but her expression stayed tight. Fern went to grab her sweatpants from him, but he held them just out of her reach. Anxiety blossomed in and on her chest and she instinctively dropped to a more aggressive stance. As her scales shimmered, her shoulders hunched, sharp nails out and her knees bent. Jaw tight and teeth bared, Fern’s gaze drifted behind him toward the door. It was too far away to get to without incapacitating the man, something she really didn’t want to do. No matter how tempting it was to wipe that smug smirk off the man’s lips.

Erik pretended not to notice. Instead, he took a step closer to her. When she took one back and put a hand between them. The man’s gaze fell to her black nails, the points of them catching the light before he took in her mutation once more. He hadn’t seen so much of her since their initial meeting at the farmhouse and while she was a touch thin for his tastes, her mutation wasn’t to be denied. It was fantastic. Breathtaking, and he shook his head almost mournfully. “You really mustn’t hide so much of yourself away. Especially not under such shapeless rags.”

“I like shapeless,” She growled at him. Holding her hand out, palm up, the young woman demanded, “Now give them back.”

“Why don’t you try and take them from me?”

“Erik. Give them back.” Fern winced at the slight break in her voice. “I won’t ask again.”

“You shouldn’t have asked the first time.” The man slipped closer to her and Fern felt fear stab through her. He was a lot bigger than her, no doubt physically stronger and the bunker was a very secluded place. So focused on keeping her adrenaline in check, she didn’t notice the step he had taken to close the gap between them until his breath hit her ear. “Take them from me.”

Fern flinched and kicked him away. Erik let out a grunt as her foot caught his hip and knocked him to the ground. Sneering, the young woman clenched her hands into fists. “You like ‘em so much, why don’t you keep ‘em?”

As she spun to leave, he moved to stand. “You’re no fun at all, you know that, Ailey?” Pain throbbed across his hip, but Erik ignored it as he fell in step with her. He then stepped in front of her, blocking her way out of the bunker. “All that pent up rage and nothing to do with it.” His fingers reached out to push her hair back. “I could teach you to transform all that energy into something much more stimulating than meditation.”

“You’re too close to me. I don’t like it. Now I’m going to ask for my pants again and if you don’t give them to me, I’m going to leave,” She pulled her face away from him before he could touch her. Every instinct told her to bite him, but she didn’t want the others to think she couldn’t control herself so she repressed it. “And I won’t be coming back alone.”

He chuckled. It was a dark, hollow sound that made a shiver run up her spine. “Are you going to sick that Irish boyfriend of yours on me?”

Her blue eyes narrowed on him and she shook her head. “I’m going to sick your British one on you.”

The man’s mouth puckered. Fern held out her hand expectantly and Erik handed over her sweats a bit more roughly than necessary before storming out of the bunker.

The young woman felt her scales spasm as she fell to her knees. Deep, quick breaths made her lungs hurt as she struggled to keep her glands in check. They burned, itching and stinging in a way they never had before, but she resisted the urge to touch them. Touching them would only make it worse. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, instinct maybe, but she didn’t want to risk tipping the scales and making them gush.

Teeth clenched, Fern slowly got to her feet. It wasn’t a steady movement. Her normal grace failed her and she stumbled into her pants and toward the door. The rush of adrenaline wasn’t meant to be denied and her body decided if it wasn’t going to fight, it was time to run. Too bad most of her strength had been used up not giving Erik the satisfaction of seeing her break. Her gloved hand hit the frame of the bunker’s door. 

Scowling, Fern squared her shoulders. She cracked her neck, set her jaw and stormed up the stairs to the mansion. Admittedly, some of her bravado faltered when she reached the door. The young woman was angry, but she didn’t want to unleash that anger on anyone who didn’t deserve it. After peeking inside and making sure the coast was clear, the young woman raced up the stairs to her room. 

Once inside, she spun the wooden chair under the door handle and went immediately to her underwear drawer. Shoving aside her jockeys and her a-shirts, the girl faltered at the sight of the familiar ace bandage tucked away in the corner. Lips pursed and skin not quite steady, she shrugged her t-shirt off and began the slow, careful process of binding her chest.

Some time later, after gathering her nerve, Fern made her way to Hank’s makeshift little laboratory. She wrinkled her nose at the prospect of spending absolutely any time in it, but at least she knew he wasn’t going to proposition her. Hands behind her back, she rocked on her toes in the doorway. “Hey.”

The young man glanced up from his notes with a grin. Setting the pencil down, he greeted her brightly, “Fern, good afternoon. How was your session?”

Her skin rolled from black to white before returning to a slate color, but her features stayed surprisingly mellow. “Fine.”

The young woman slipped into the room. Vaguely, she wondered how it was he managed to get his hair so short, but pushed that question aside for later. Instead, she leaned over his desk. Her large eyes drifted over his notes with dull curiosity. “Charles said you had some kind of prototype ready for me?”

When her gaze met his, the scientist stood. He fixed the bottom of his jacket (inwardly, the young woman wondered why he was even wearing one, between the heat and the informal setting the mansion offered, but didn’t ask him, lest she make him uncomfortable) before motioning her over to a metal trunk.

Arching a brow, Fern tilted her head as he held up a yellow and blue train wreck of an outfit. He looked super proud of it and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings...but she had to ask, “Uh, Hank, where’s the rest of it?”

Cheeks a fiery red, the young man swallowed as she took it from him. As he rubbed the back of his neck, he offered a chuckle. “Well, with your mutation, I thought it would be best to keep as much, um, skin exposed as possible. “

Fern held the outfit against her chest. The long slits up the legs and down the arms were a bit jarring and the idea of wearing it in front of someone like Erik made her skin crawl (and quite literally, her scales). 

It was the latter Hank noticed and commented on, “I suppose I could put some mesh inlays, but I didn’t want to complicate things.” With a hum, she walked past him and into a nearby closet. Hank gaped after her, but followed. Ignoring how she shut the door in his face, he leaned against it. “I wasn’t sure how you went about cleaning your clothes after you…”

“Don’t say discharge,” Fern teased from inside the closet. “It’s super creepy when you call it discharge.”

“After your mutation activates, then.” He smirked and crossed his arms. “Can I see it?”

“Why?”

“To see how it fits! I haven’t actually gotten anyone to try theirs on yet.”

“Not even Raven? Wait, does Raven even need a suit?” Her voice grew a bit louder, a bit hysterical amusement as she fumbled with the zipper. “Is she even gonna be there when we go after Shaw?”

“I assume, I mean, I’m not sure what exactly she’ll be doing, but yes, she’s been rather adamant she come along.”

Fern peeked the door open. The inside of the closet was pitch black and the lack of light made her blue eyes seem all the more reflective as she warned, “If I come out, you better not laugh at me.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Or get any ideas.”

Hank squinted at her. “What kind of ideas would I be getting?”

“Any kind. Shut the door, I don’t want anyone else to see me like this.”

“Like what?” He looked rather concerned, but went to do as she had asked. 

At the sound of it being shut, the grey girl stepped out of the closet. Skin flickering with embarrassment, she tugged idly at the bottom of her sleeve. It only ran down the inside of her arm to wrap around her wrist, leaving the outside completely exposed. The legs were much the same, with the inside completely covered and the scutes and glands along her thighs and calves utterly exposed. The zipper was fastened up to her throat, but the belt was undone and the buckle hang limp around her narrow hips.

Hank pursed his lips and walked around her. He tapped his chin. “You need knee pads.”

“I can’t wear this!”

“Why not? I mean…” He gently pulled the shoulders of her suit back, a bit annoyed with how inaccurate Raven’s measurements had been. “I’ll need to do some more tailoring-”

Her scales shivered with annoyance.

“But this should be optimal for your mutation.”

When he came to a stop in front of her, Fern was frowning. Big eyes narrowed, she looked down at his feet before looking back to his face. “Are you going to be going barefoot?”

The young scientist blinked. “No.”

“Why not?” Before he could answer, the grey girl supplied, “Could it be because it’s embarrassing to have people gawk at your insecurities?” 

Hank regarded her a moment. “I didn’t think you cared about what people thought of your skin.”

“I don’t. Mostly. But that doesn’t mean they need to see everything I have to offer.”

“Your body is fine. Nobody cares what you look like.”

Insulted, Fern reared back. “I know my body’s fine, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothing! It was a compliment! I just meant no one will think you look bad in the suit.”

After a blink, the brunette squinted at him. “What? I know it looks fine, it just feels really impractical.” And stupid, she added mentally, but didn’t say aloud. “And why is it yellow?!”

“Yellow was the only color available in that fabric.”

“Oh, well, that makes sense.” Fern kicked a leg back and grabbed her ankle. After stretching and rolling her weight around, she planted it back on the ground and reluctantly nodded. “Fit’s good. It just needs a bit more-”

“Fabric?” Hank offered. At her smirk, he went on, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.” As she stepped back into the closet, she asked, “Hey, Hank?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you get your hair so short?”

“Uh, I cut it?”

“Like, with scissors?”

“Well, I use clippers...” His blue eyes squinted at her. “Why?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the always fantastic Linda Ku for betaing this! Remember, never bind with a tensor bandage. Never.


	24. The Eye of the Beholder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my wonderful beta, Linda Ku!

“Sean is going to kill me.”

“Why?” Fern asked, not looking away from the mirror. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see Hank’s distress, but she wasn’t particularly bothered by it.

Hank looked positively contrite as he peered at the young woman before him. Voice heavy with regret, he rubbed his brow, “When you said you wanted to borrow them, I thought you were going to use them on Sean.”

“What? Why would I use them on Sean?” Fern loved Sean’s hair. These clippers would be going nowhere near him if she had anything to say about it (which she didn’t, but she liked to think she did). Her nose wrinkled as the metal teeth gnawed through her thick locks. Half her head was done, but the noise was still just as grating as it had been when Hank had clicked it on. 

The young man blinked and dropped his wide eyed gaze to the sink. It was a mess of black hair and vaguely, he was glad Fern had insisted he show her how to use them in her personal quarters and not his room. “Well, it would be best if he kept it shorter so he could see better while he’s flying.”

Her hand paused. “While he’s what?”

The clippers continued to buzz in her hand, and for a moment, Hank was certain she was threatening him with them. Staring at them, he slowly leaned away from her. “Uh, the suit I’m making...it’s going to help him catch the soundwaves he creates. If he catches them at the right angle, he should be able to fly. Didn’t he tell you?”

“No,” her voice was surprisingly blank. Fern looked pointedly back to the mirror and continued to run the clippers through her hair. As more of the dark strands fell into the sink, she asked, “Can you get the back? I don’t think I can make it even.”

With a sigh, the scientist stepped behind her to finish the job. He was silent a few moments before he asked why it was she was shaving her head in the first place. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

Her sharp nails drummed on the porcelain in front of her. She thought of Erik trying to touch it and grit her teeth. A flash of rage, and maybe a little bit of fear if she was being honest with herself, pulsed through her. Her skin spasmed violently in the mirror in front of her, but she simply replied, “It’s just impractical.”

Picking the loose locks from the shoulders of her sweatshirt, Hank nodded. “Most definitely, although I don’t think Moira or Raven will be emulating your new look.”

“Raven already has short hair.”

“Well, she prefers it long.”

“Then why doesn’t she grow out her natural hair?” Fern arched an invisible brow. Repressing a smirk, she shrugged with a mock innocence. “Maybe she just knows you prefer it.” At his hard blush, she went on a bit more genuinely, “You really don’t like how she looks? Naturally, I mean?”

“It’s very…” Hank winced with unease as his cheeks returned to their natural pale state. 

“Abnormal.”

“So?”

“So it’s not for everyone.” A bit defensive, he pursed his lips. “I much prefer her human appearance.”

More curious than angry, she tilted her head. Sharp tipped fingernails tapped on the porcelain sink, electing a quiet clink from it as her toes flexed. A thin, near invisible brow arched at him, but her voice remained surprisingly empathetic, “Why?”

“It’s just better, for everyone, for her to present herself in such a way.” He tilted it back into place and resumed her hair cut.

Fern blinked. The buzzing against her skull was strange, almost ticklish. A wave of pity washed over her for the insecure man in the mirror. “It must be very hard to think that way, given your own abnormalities.”

“If I have my way, none of us will have to be like this for long.” Hank smiled and pulled the clippers back. Brushing the shorn locks from her shoulders, he nodded his approval. “There. Done. You just need to do your bangs.”

The young woman stared at his reflection. “What did you mean we won’t have to be like this? What’s wrong with being like this?”

The scientist chuckled and pushed his glasses up. His smile wasn’t quite genuine, more out of bemusement than mirth. “You can’t want to stay like this. I mean, why would anyone want to be a freak?”

Fern turned to face him. He seemed more legitimately confused than confrontational. Features passive, she resisted the urge to put a hand on his shoulder, because she would probably throttle him if she did. “Whatever you’re making, keep it to yourself. I was born a freak, and I’ll die a freak.” She shrugged her thin shoulders with a hint of nonchalance. “It’s how I’m supposed to be.”

“But you could be better.” His smile remained, albeit not quite as steady. Almost a bit desperate, he shook his head. His hands deep in his pockets, he clenched his jaw before he sighed. “You could be everything you are now with none of the side effects.”

“Side effects like my skin? Like my entire body?” She shook her head. A bit proud, the grey skinned mutant smirked up at him. “Then I wouldn’t really be me.”

“What about Sean?”

Fern frowned. “What about him?”

Hank lifted a brow. Knowingly, he asked, “Don’t you think he’d like it better if you were normal?”

“Why should he care how I look?” Crossing her arms over her bound chest, she dropped her gaze to the floor. The white tiles were covered in bits of her hair. Nails digging into her palms, she kept her tone firm despite the sting of his words, “It’s none of his business.”

“I might be a little awkward, but I’m not stupid. I see how you look at each other.”

Her eyes sharpened as they returned to his. The audacity in them was almost startling. She had never seen anything like it on him before and frankly, he didn’t wear it well. Skin shimmering a dark charcoal with rage, Fern sneered at him, “So?”

“So, you really think his parents are going to accept someone who looks...like you?” His voice was filled with doubt and pity and just a bit of smugness. “You won’t be able to go out on dates or even leave the mansion.”

“What happens between me and Sean is none of your business.” Her scales quivered and so did her bottom lip. With a sneer, she squared her shoulders. “If he doesn’t accept me for how I look, he clearly doesn’t deserve me.”

Hank glared at her as she shoved the clippers into his chest. “You asked.”

“And you made it personal. No wonder Raven has so many issues. Everyone around here’s been so focused on how she looks, no one’s taken the time to tell her it shouldn’t matter.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Help what?” Her brows rose as she shook her head at him. Disgust twinged her scathing tone as she snapped, “Her feel better about herself or you feel better about being with her?”

Without another word, Hank shook his head and stormed out of her bathroom. The door slammed behind him and Fern huffed. 

Crouching down on her haunches, she banged her head into the tiny white doors of the cabinets under the sink. As she clutched the little metal handles, the young mutant wondered why she couldn’t just keep her stupid mouth shut. Things had been going so well between them! They had been civil, they had been bonding and then she had to go and push the Raven button. After nabbing the small first aid kit from under the sink, she scooped up the mess of hair from the floor, put a few pieces aside, and quickly chopped her bangs back. They were a bit too short and a bit uneven, but they would do.

The mutant peered at herself curiously. She didn’t look much different from before, and to her absolute disappointment, she didn’t look any less feminine. Her features were angular and her lips thin, and even with her new short hair, she still looked girlish. Maybe even more so than before. Her eyes looked bigger and her cheekbones sharper and she wrinkled her nose.

Annoyed, Fern fixed her messy bangs before making her way downstairs. A few familiar faces sat at the kitchen counter, but she didn’t really pay them any mind. Raven and Alex continued to speak casually to one another, discussing some kind of trip that Fern had no interest in, while Moira and Charles were reading. 

It was the British man who looked up from his newspaper to greet her and ended up doing a double take. “What in god’s name have you done with your hair?!”

“Shaved it off.”

“Why?!” Charles gaped at her, but the young brunette didn’t pay him much mind.

Fern offered him a limp shrug as the others turned to look at her. Not wanting to meet their stares, she turned and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. She then grabbed the milk, a spoon and a box of Sugar Crisp before she made her way to sit next to Moira. 

The woman smiled warmly at her. When Fern eyed her skeptically, she simply nodded her approval and told her, “I like it. Trés chic”

“Thanks.” The mutant didn’t know what that meant, but figured it was probably a compliment, given how pleased the older brunette seemed. “What’cha reading?”

Moira rolled her eyes in an over dramatic fashion as she held up the file. “Field report from our little trip to Russia.”

Fern dumped some milk onto her cereal and began to push it around her bowl. Disinterested, but polite, she asked, “How’d that go, by the way?”

The agent shook her head. “Not great.”

“Oh, that’s too-” Fern flinched as Raven reached over the table to touch her new do. Smacking her hand away with her spoon, the taller mutant scowled. “Don’t.”

“It’s so short!” The blonde gushed, but let her hand fall. The grey girl couldn’t tell if it was with dread or amusement or approval, so she simply let her continue, “How’d you get it that short?”

“Hank did it.”

Alex let out a snort of laughter. “You let McCoy do your hair? What’re you two joining the Girl Scouts next?”

Fern squinted at him, but chose not to dignify that was a response. Instead, she took a bite of her cereal. Mouth full, she asked where Sean was.

Alex smirked and kept chewing his Twinkie as he told her, “He got his ass handed to him at Rock, Paper, Scissors and had to finish up some chores.”

Said chore was filling the pool the duo had painstakingly spent upwards of six hours cleaning out the day before. As someone who didn’t do solitude well, the redhead was miserable. Sean whined to himself as he sprayed the firehose into the empty hole. The novelty of playing with it had long since worn off in the past ten minutes, and frankly, he was ready to throw himself in the pit. There was only about a quarter full, so he reasoned if he managed to knock himself out, he could die peacefully while drowning.

Thankfully, Hank made an appearance and put a stop to all that. The young brunet poked his head in and offered him a benign, “Hey.”

“Oh my god, what year is it?!” Sean moaned. He didn’t get up to greet him though. He stayed seated on the edge of the pool, his long legs dangling precariously. 

“What?”

“How long have I been down here?” Words dripping with sarcastic annoyance, he continued to keep spraying the hose. Charles had said it would help build up his upper body strength, but Sean was fairly certain that was just an excuse to get out of doing any dirty work. “Weeks, months? Tell me, did you and Alex finally work your issues out? Has Fern known the touch of another man?”

Hank resisted the urge to roll his eyes the redhead’s mocking thousand yard stare and wistful voice. “That’s actually what I’m here to talk to you about.”

That got Sean’s attention. The redhead whipped his gaze over to Hank. The bespectacled young man had his hand stuffed deep in his pockets, his shoulders hunched and he was smiling sheepishly. Sean’s blue eyes narrowed on him. “What did you do?”

“I’m developing a formula that should alter any inhuman appearances without affecting the primary mutation.”

The young man crossed his ankles, but stayed quiet as his gaze returned to the pool.

Hank mistakenly took his silence for interest. Maybe even approval, and carried on thusly, with a wide smirk. Brows high, his tone was just a bit too smug for the redhead’s liking as he continued, “It could be a huge step toward people accepting mutants that look like me. Or Raven.”

“Or Fern,” Sean supplied knowingly. His gaze didn’t leave the pool. It had eclipsed the quarter mark, and his shoulders were starting to ache. If he kept the stream up, it would be done in under an hour.

“Yes, exactly.” Hank grinned and moved a bit deeper into the bunker. “But when I tried to explain, she got so defensive...I was hoping maybe you could talk to her?”

“About what?”

The brunet blinked, a bit puzzled by the stoic response. “The benefits of being normal. You could explain how much easier her life would be, how people would treat her differently.”

Sean pursed his lips. Hank seemed a bit desperate, but he merely shook his head. “Different isn’t necessarily better.” He shrugged his gangly shoulders and looked back to the pool. “If she doesn’t want to change, I’m not going to talk her into it.”

The standing man let out a forced, slightly hoarse, chuckle. His smile was a bit manic, as his were his eyes as he snapped, “But she can’t be happy like that!”

“Why?” The redhead turned to arch a thin brow at him. “Because you aren’t?”

A frown crossed Hank’s lips. A bit hurt, he shook his head. “I’m just trying to help.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Sean dropped the hose in the pool and stood. His arms ached as he brushed the back of his jeans off. Gaze stern, he stood before the taller scientist. “I don’t think she needs your kind of help.”

“I guess...it just can’t be an easy life.”

His blue eyes fell as he shrugged. After a moment, Sean huffed. “But it’s her own. No one can make that decision but her.”

Hank took a step closer. “But if she heard your side-”

“My side? What do I have to do with any of this?”

“Sean, come on. Everyone knows you’re…”

The redhead pursed his lips. “So?”

“So wouldn’t you like her better if you could have a relationship with her?” Hank asked, not unkindly but rather beseechingly. “A real one?”

“Not that it’s any of your damn business,” Sean growled at him, his normally pale cheeks a bright pink. His grip tightened on the brass handle of the hose. “But we have a real relationship.”

“No you don’t,” The scientist said simply, knowingly, smugly. His features, however, were blank, almost cold. “She can’t even leave the mansion. What kind of life is that?”

A bit manically, the shorter man shook his head. “Look, I get you’re coming from a good place, but if you don’t shut the hell up, I’m gonna throw you in the damn pool.”

Hurt, Hank pouted. “But-”

“No.” Sean pointed a firm finger at him as his flush faded. “And if you say any of this shit to Fern I’m gonna come up to that lab of yours and break every single test tube in it, got it?”

The brunet’s shoulders slumped. “I just want to help.”

The redhead groaned. Running his hands through his hair, he wandered back to the pool’s edge. “I know. I get it, but you can’t just come at her just because she doesn’t have the same hang ups as you.” He grabbed the hose with a frown. The muscles in his shoulders flared, but he kept his grip tight. “She doesn’t need anything for her skin and you don’t need anything for your feet. Accept it and move on.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not a freak.”

“But I am in love with one,” Sean replied. His tone was light and his features passive as he turned his eyes to Hank. The brunet seemed thrown by the confession, but Sean was fairly at ease with it. He wasn’t sure why it was so easy to admit, even in an off the cuff manner, but Sean meant it. In fact, the words brought a smile to his lips, only for him to sober a moment later. His gaze met Hank’s as he finished, “So I think I get it a little more than you might think.”

With a sigh, the bespectacled boy moved to stand next to him. For a few minutes, they were quiet. They simply watched the pool fill and as it slowly reached the three quarter mark. 

“She made me cut her hair.”

“She made you?”

Hank ignored the question, and the hint of amusement in the redhead’s raspy drawl. “And I told her about the flying.”

Sean cringed. “Was she mad?”

“I have no idea. She can be kind of hard to read.”

Resisting the urge to point out that it was incredibly easy to tell what she was feeling if he took the time to learn what the ripples in her scales meant, Sean instead just hummed. 

After a beat, Hank changed the subject, “I think Raven wants to go into the city tonight.”

The redhead offered him a crooked grin. It reeked of smug amusement and so did his tone, “Oh yeah?”

Hank glared at him, but a small smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. His cheeks a light pink, he cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

Sean sent a gentle elbow into his friend’s side with a cheeky grin. “Sounds like good time, Hank, you really know how to sell it.”

“I should go.”

“No hard feelings?” 

The brunet smiled as he turned to leave. “None at all. Don’t forget to add the chlorine.”

“Yeah, yeah, Charles gave me the cleanliness spiel already.” Sean waved him off with one hand. It was really more of a twitch of his wrist because that was all he was really willing to commit to. “Go get ready for your date.”

With a laugh, his friend went to do just that. The pool was mostly full. Grumbling under his breath about Alex shirking his duties, Sean let the hose fall into the water and made his way to the small supply closet off to the side of the bunker. With a long sigh, he popped the door open. Inside sat a ten pound bag of chlorine particles. 

Jaw clenched, Sean grabbed the bag. It wasn’t spectacularly heavy, in fact by comparison to some of his nieces and nephews it was rather light. Deciding he had just about enough working out for the day, the redhead wandered back to the pool. Shaky hands dumped the entire sack into the water. No one had told him anything about measuring it and Charles had been pretty adamant about making sure the pool was clean...so he didn’t see the harm in going a bit overboard.

Nose and eyes stinging from the fumes, Sean shook his head before he made his way to shut off the water. He then rolled up the hose and left the pool to sit and the chlorine to dissolve. 

Upstairs, Charles and Alex had left the women to their own devices. The trio was really more of a duo, since Moira had once again taken to editing the field report, but of course, Raven was happy to fill the silence.

“I just thought since we’re supposed to start sparring tomorrow we should go out tonight.” She smiled, bright and bubbly. “You know, before we get all bruised and exhausted.”

Fern arched a brow, but didn’t look up from her apple. Her cereal long since gone, the grey skinned mutant found herself not only still hungry but completely thrilled with the prospect of finally being alone. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you know. Dinner, a movie, maybe have a drink after…” The blonde smile wavered a moment. “Those of us who are old enough to drink, I mean.”

“That should be fun. When are you leaving?” Please say soon, Fern thought to herself, absently peeling a bit of the skin off the fruit.

Raven’s features fell as realization dawned in her eyes. Of all people, she should’ve realized what she was saying, but things had been so casual in the mansion. So normal, she had forgotten who she was talking to. “Oh, Fern, I didn’t mean to-”

The Ailey girl chuckled. Features surprisingly warm, she shook her head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Rav, but I could kind of use a break from you guys. I mean, you’re great, but you’re kind of overwhelming.”

And frankly, she could use some time to decompress; between Erik’s distressing come on and Hank’s dressing down, Fern really just wanted to relax without anyone’s opinion or comments.

“Are you sure?” Raven pursed her lips. Her blue eyes flickered over her grey features, but Fern’s skin was calm and still. “You really don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Oh good. Thanks.”

Amused, the brunette squinted at her. “Um, you’re welcome?”

“Wanna help me pick out an outfit?”

“No.”

Raven pursed her lips, but her eyes shone with mirth. “Fern.”

The grey girl rolled her eyes and let out a long, agonized huff that sounded vaguely like, “Fine.”

After disposing of the apple and putting their dishes in the sink, the duo left Moira to her field report and had just made it to the staircase when Sean slipped out of the bunker. He stretched his arms over his head with a yawn. His gaze landed on them and he offered them a grin as he crossed his arms. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

“Hey Sean,” Fern greeted, but didn’t stop her ascent. She didn’t really want to see Sean, or be reminded about what Hank had said. 

Her friend grabbed the younger girl by the arm. Smiling, she greeted the redhead warmly and asked if he was coming out with them.

“Nope.” Sean bobbed his shoulders. “Can’t. Twilight Zone marathon on tonight.” His gaze flicked back to Fern. His smile grew, crooked and warm, as he leaned a bit closer to her. “You cut your hair. Can I…?”

At his raised hand, the young mutant sighed but nodded. Beside her, Raven smirked but didn’t comment as the boy began to thread his fingers through the short black locks.

Blushing faintly, Sean nodded. It was a quick, almost eager action as he cleared his throat. “It looks good, real good. Kinda like Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina.”

“I take it that’s good?” The brunette drawled with a hint of sarcasm. Her skin fluttered from grey to black with embarrassment, but a pleased smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. It fell when she noticed the strange scent embedded in his pale skin. His hand held a strange chemical smell. Almost like bleach. She wrinkled her nose and pulled out of his reach. 

“Well, you wear it better than her…” He nodded his approval as Raven giggled. “You look great.”

Jaw clenched, Fern’s large eyes narrowed on him. All the positive attention was nice, but she hadn’t forgotten his casual dismissal of Raven’s invitation. “You’re not just staying in for my sake, are you, Cassidy?”

“You wish, Fe. This is all about the Zone.” His smile grew crooked and warm. His fingers found hers. Tickling the inside of her palm, he bowed his head sheepishly before meeting her gaze with a faint blush and a nonchalant shrug. “But I wouldn’t kick you outta the room if you wanted to join me.”

Her skin spoke volumes for her, twisting between flattered and surprised and a bit annoyed. The latter was at Raven’s giggling, but Fern merely shrugged and turned to go up the stairs. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“Well, that settles it.” Sean slipped up to join her, only to have the girl shove him back down. With a fake pout and a snicker, he gave her hip a squeeze. “I’ll meet you in the den after I shower, alright?”

“Sure.” Fern grabbed the blonde woman and yanked her up the stairs.

Raven stumbled after her, smirking all the way to her bedroom.

For the next hour, Fern was subjected to Raven’s wrath. Well, her exuberance, which in all honesty, was twice as frightening. She gave advice about what Fern should wear and how Fern should act and what Sean would like, all while routing through her own closet for an outfit to wear out. 

The grey girl stayed silent through most of the ‘exchange’. In fact, she only offered the odd grunt of reply from where she was sprawled out on Raven’s bed. Her toes flexed as she thought of what Hank had said- or rather implied. Fern wasn’t stupid, she knew if she was ever in a relationship with anyone it wouldn’t be easy. A small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. Her skin rippled with joy as she recalled how coy Sean had been, how he had waited for her the night before and decided fuck Hank. What the hell did he know anyway? It wasn’t like he was in a relationship. 

Her blue eyes flickered down to where Raven was dressing at the end of the bed. Toes flexing, Fern licked her teeth. “You think you and Hank are ever gonna...you know?”

After smoothing the black skirt, the blonde grabbed a thin blouse and offered her a shrug. With a devious smirk, Raven hummed. “Who knows? Maybe we will tonight.”

“Hm.” Deciding she had spent enough time watching Raven moon, Fern rolled off the bed. It was a hurried, but graceful movement. “I’m gonna go bug Sean.”

“Have fun...but not too much fun,” Raven teased before she offered the girl’s bottom a pinch.

Horrified, Fern glared at her and walked a little faster out of the room. 

True to his word, Sean was waiting for her in Charles’ den. His shaggy hair was still damp, his white t-shirt showing off flushed pink arms. He was fiddling with the dial and merely offered her a smile when she slipped onto the couch. Stretching her long legs out, she asked what the show was about. Not that she had ever actually seen a television program before, but she knew the general idea of them. They were like radio shows but with pictures to go along with the sound. Not exactly a ground breaking notion, but if she got to spend alone time with Sean, she didn’t see the harm in sitting through one.

“Different stuff.” He shrugged, but didn’t take his attention off the dial. “It’s kind of like showing you little pieces into different universes.”

“What, like the multiverse theory?”

Sean blinked at her over his shoulder. “You know about that?”

Fern arched a near invisible brow. “Josie got a few philosophy books from the library a few months back.” Her toes flexed absently. “Not really my bag, but it’s an interesting idea.”

“Okay, well, it’s like that, but it’s like all those realms and all the weird possibilities all take place in this one place, the Twilight Zone. A fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man,” Sean recited in his best Rod Serling voice. The young man stood and picked her feet up before he fell onto the couch beside her. With her feet on his stomach, he threw one of his legs over hers. He opened his mouth to continue, but the man himself took up the speech before he could.

After an episode, the rest of the gang poked their heads in to let them know they were leaving. After waving them off, the duo got a bit more comfortable. Shimmying down on the couch, Fern let Sean take hold of her ankle.

“There’s a monster on the wing of the plane!”

“That man’s a terrible actor,” Blue eyes not leaving the screen, Sean commented, “his career is going nowhere.”

“Yep,” Fern agreed, admittedly paying more attention to the small circles he was rubbing into her ankle than the show itself. Rolling it in his hold, she dropped her hand to his leg to mimic the touch. Her fingers drifted under his sweats to stroke at the pale skin of his calf. Worry knotted her stomach. Sean was bony. Slim. Fragile. Cheek against the armrest, she hummed and carefully stroked his freckled skin with the pad of her index finger. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea…” At his curious look, the young woman clarified, “You flying.” Her scales shimmered over her cheeks. “You’re not exactly the most co-ordinated guy, Sean…”

He chuckled and ran his fingers up her leg. Her skin was cool. When he ran against the grain it was rough, and when he ran with it, very very smooth. A bit touched and okay, a little embarrassed by her concern, the redhead teased, “Don’t be such a sourpuss. I’ll be fine.”

Fern’s gaze stayed locked on the television. Arms wrapped around her torso, she pursed her lips and held herself a bit tighter. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

A smile stretched over Sean’s mouth. Sitting up, he hugged her feet to his chest and offered her leg a consoling rub. “I’ll be fine, Fe. I promise.”

Her skin flickered as her features tightened, but her eyes didn’t leave the screen. “You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do.” The redhead squeezed her shins. “And if I do get fucked up, Hank’s a hell’va doctor.”

Embarrassed, her scales twisted as she sat up a bit. “You’re right.”

“It’s okay.” He leaned down to press a kiss to her knee before he laid back. His fingernails skimmed over the top of her foot. Over her ankle, they slipped under her baggy grey sweats. The pads of his fingers rubbed careful circles into the stiff muscles of her calf. A smirk crossed Sean’s lips as she sunk deeper into the couch. He watched her scales shimmer and swirl with each gentle push and pull. Each one made her like him just a little bit more before his fingers slipped back up to her knee. He then skimmed back down the length of her shin and did it again. “Your toenails are pointed.”

The girl flexed her toes for him. “I’m aware.”

He tilted her ankle back. “And the scales on the bottom of your feet are different.”

The girl flinched as he ran his finger down the sole of her foot. “Don’t.”

“Ticklish?” Sean asked, more curious than teasing.

“It’s hard to explain.” She rolled her shoulders like a restless cat. Nose wrinkled and scales twisting, the brunette told him, “Feels weird.”

“Alright.” He moved his fingers back over her ankle. “Can I keep touching you? I like how your skin feels.”

With a shrug, Fern shuffled back down to rest her foot on his shoulder so he wouldn’t get any more ideas. Pushing her pants up, Sean began to knead the meat of her thigh, just above her knee. The young brunette gasped and arched her back. The thoughtless action made the baggy sweatshirt she wore shift, exposing an inch of her flat stomach to him. Her skin quivered with delight and okay, maybe arousal, and Sean’s mouth went dry. All his willpower went to not bending down to taste her scales. Realizing that might be a bit forward for a first date, he grit his jaw and instead simply watched them swirl a moment. They reminded him of something he had learned about in class and vaguely, the young man wondered if Fern was aware of it.

Voice a bit rough, he rested his cheek on her calf and asked, “Hey, Fe?”

She offered him a weak hum, but didn’t open her eyes.

“You ever see a Van Gogh painting?”

“No.”

“Oh. Too bad.”

Fern peeked an eye open. “Why?”

“You’re skin reminds me of them.” There was nothing but approval in the redhead’s tone. His eyes were fond and so was his smile as he stroked her shin. It reminded him of snakeskin, the queer texture rough and smooth at the same time. “The swirls and different dimensions, the movement. It’s beautiful.”

He grinned as her scales twisted in response to his kind words.

She offered his chest a light prod with the tip of her sharp toenails from the foot in his lap. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

The young man chuckled and kept rubbing her leg. To his surprise, she began to mimic his touch. Taking his leg from where it was slung over her thigh, she began to trace over his skin. She kept her caress feather light, as delicate as she could manage with her setae. 

As she pushed up the bottom of his black pajama bottoms, she thumbed his ankle. “I like your freckles.”

“Oh yeah? What do you like about them?” He settled back into couch with a smug smile. “Be specific.”

Fern giggled and crossed her legs. Catching his between her own, her knees offered his thigh a squeeze. At his laughter and vain attempts to get away, she grinned and settled back into the couch. When he settled (and his hand returned to rubbing her leg), the young woman told him, “They remind me of home…” She shook her head with a wince. “That sounds weird.”

Sean’s expression turned pensive. Tenderly stroking up and down her calf, he let his gaze caress her features. “Explain it to me.”

As her skin shifted, Fern sighed. “When you’re out in the boondocks, it’s like the stars are coming up from the ground. You’re skin’s like that, but inverted.” She grinned at him, flashing sharp white teeth and a bit of embarrassment. “Instead of light dotting dark, it’s dark dotting light.”

Cheeks pink, he asked if she missed it. Her home.

“Yeah.” The young woman tilted her head. “Are you still on the outs with your ma?”

Gaze falling to her leg, he pursed his lips with a nod.

Fern eased forward and took his hand. Turning his wrist, she skimmed over his pale skin. “You have a lot of freckles.”

“I’m aware,” Sean teased, echoing her earlier response.

Her large blue eyes met his. “Are they all over?”

With a snicker, he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “You wanna find out?”

“Maybe,” She teased, stretching out the word as she smiled. It was a bit devious and a bit provocative as her fingers drifted up his arm to caress the sensitive skin of his inner elbow. “I’ve never seen skin like yours before.”

Eyes wide, he nodded stupidly and agreed, “Likewise.”

The brunette considered a moment before she offered, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Sean’s jaw dropped as she stood. He watched her walk to the door and when she realized he wasn’t following, she turned to face him. Arching an expectant brow at him, Fern asked if he was coming. Nodding eagerly, the redhead all but ran after her.

A few minutes later, the two of them stood beside the young woman’s bed. Arms crossed over her chest, she nodded to his shirt. “So go ahead.”

“What? Why do I have to go first?! This was your idea!”

“Yeah,” Fern agreed with an impudent nod. “My idea. So I call the shots.”

Sean glared at her. “Together?”

The brunette let out a huff but agreed. “Fine, together.”

“Shirts first?”

Fern nodded. Fists clenching anxiously at her sides, she cleared her throat. “Okay.”

On three, the two of them stripped out of their tops. Of course, this left Sean shirtless and the girl in a t-shirt.

Crossing his lanky arms over his pecs, he scowled. “You cheated.”

Fern didn’t hear him. Too busy staring at his pale skin, at the trail of orange pubic hair that ran from his navel down to his pajama pants, she was struck by one thing. “You’re too skinny.”

Sean blushed. It went over his cheeks and down his throat to his chest. Her gaze flickered over his ribs and sunken stomach and he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Okay, you’re starting to make me self-conscious.”

She tilted her head. “I can see your hipbones.”

“Fe!” His flushed cheeks darkened as he covered them with the palms of his hands. “I can’t help it! It’s my metabolism.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Quit staring at them!”

“I like them.” Fern touched the back of his hand and tried to pry his fingers away. Carefully, of course, not wanting to hurt him with her sharp fingernails.

Skeptical, the young man held tight. “You do?” When she nodded, Sean beamed and put his hands on his waist in an effeminate, bold manner. “Then stare away.”

Her fingers reached out to touch them. The setae made him shudder, but he merely pressed closer to her touch. As she traced over the shallow dip, Fern briefly wondered what the hell she was doing, coming on to a boy she barely knew. Still, she was curious and had part of a deal to uphold, she stripped out of her shirt.

Instant regret.

Sean gasped at the sight of her bound chest. The beige tensor bandage strapped her breasts down tight, the thick material plain in contrast to her shiny skin. The area under her collar was equally dual, a faded grey that struggled to swirl along with the rest of her scales. Shaking his head, he stepped closer to her and eased his fingers over the strap that wrapped around her ribs. “Why-”

“I just…” Fern jerked away from him. At his hurt blink, she dropped her gaze. As she rubbed the back of her neck, the young woman sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Wanted to draw less attention to myself.”

As her scales twisted, Sean brushed his fingers along her collarbone. A frown played at the corner of his mouth and he struggled to keep his tone light, “From me?”

“Erik.”

His expression darkened. Rage made his stomach knot. Unable to keep his voice completely even, he clenched his jaw, “If he makes you that uncomfortable, you should tell Charles.”

“I will later.” The young woman rolled her eyes and forced a grin. Snapping the waistband of his pajama bottoms, she ordered, “Lose the pants, Cassidy.”

He licked his teeth as she began to unwind the tensor bandage from around her chest. As Fern dropped it on the bed beside them, she realized the patch of missing scales on her side was visible and tried to covertly cover it with her forearm. Thankfully, Sean was too distracted by her breasts to notice.

They were modest peaks topped off by dark grey (and to his surprise, scale-free) nipples, the same shade as her lips. He watched them slowly shift through a mirade of shades as the circulation came back to them. The pale blue from the walls around them seemed to stick to them, as did the white from his boxers and even his own pale skin. Of course, some of her scales refused to co-operate, too bruised to reflect. His gaze drifted from them to where she was favoring her side. Tilting his head, Sean gently touched her elbow.

Fern flinched. Regret pooled in her stomach, but she was too curious and too stubborn to stop now. Answering the question he didn’t ask, she snapped, “Nothing.”

“Fe-”

Her expression softened into something a bit more vulnerable, but she still refused to look him in the eye. “It’s just sensitive.”

He offered her a wide, crooked grin. “Good sensitive or bad sensitive?”

The girl canted away from his inquiring touch. “Don’t-”

Sean immediately dropped his hand. Understanding, he offered her a weak, sympathetic smirk. “Okay, sorry.” 

“It’s just...bad memories, you know?” She offered him a weak smirk and dropped her chin to her chest so she wouldn’t have to look at his understanding features.

Stepping a bit closer to her, Sean smoothed her short hair with tender fingers and brushed their noses together. As he desperately tried to ignore the brush of her peaked nipples against his chest, the young man thumbed at her temple. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not right now.”

“You sure?”

She nodded.

“Positive?”

Fern smacked his hand away from her cheek. Beaming, she batted his inquiring fingers away as they moved to cup her hips. “Oh my god, Cassidy, no wonder you never get laid!”

“Hey!” Sean looked genuinely offended, or would have if his eyes weren’t sparkling so brightly. At her ill-contained smirk, he slipped his arms around her waist and teased, “My pillow talk is impeccable.”

“Oh yeah,” the brunette mimicked his thick drawl sarcastically, “hey baby, how’d you get that scar? So sexy.”

A wide grin lit up his freckled features. Pulling her lithe form to his chest, Sean ignored the brush of her nipples against his skin and hoped and prayed that she wouldn’t notice his erection digging into her thigh. She absolutely did, but she had the good taste to ignore it as he teased, “I would never call you baby, babe.”

She shook her head. Eyes fond, she thumbed the side of his neck. “You’re such a sap.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“You’re killing the mood,” Fern warned as he buried his face in her neck. 

“Mood? What mood?” He rested his chin on her shoulder. Voice innocent, the young man smoothed his fingers over her bicep, over the thick glands down to her hand and wove their fingers together. “I thought we were just having a naked hang out.”

Scales shimmering with embarrassment, and maybe a bit of amusement, she asked if he had those often.

“Nah.” Sean eased back to smile at her. “You’re special, Fe.”

The young woman brushed some of his bangs from his eyes and stroked his cheek. The saetae of her fingertips made him shudder, but when he only pressed closer to her, she told him, “You’re so weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird?” He teased.

Just as she had before, Fern nodded her approval. Skin and eyes sparkling, she gave his cheek a pinch. “The best weird.”

The redhead pursed his lips. His eyes were a bit more serious than they had been, but he tried to keep his tone light as he teased, “Careful. Someone might think you might actually like me back.”

The girl’s expression fell. Skin twisting with surprise, and maybe a bit of sadness, Fern ran her hands up and down his arms. “What made you think I don’t?”

Sean offered her a strained smirk. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she didn’t like him- he knew she did. Knew she loved him even, but that didn’t mean she was attracted to him. They were friends, and easily the closest people in the mansion, apart from maybe Erik and Charles. He’d had girlfriends before and there were certain pretenses, certain standards that went along with having them.

With Fern, there wasn’t shyness. There weren’t any stolen glances. He and Fern were open about everything. They laid their feelings out on the table all the time, whether they were annoyed or amused, they were blunt about everything. Even things he didn’t necessarily want to be blunt about. 

His smile grew as she demanded he lose his pants. Huffing, he obeyed and watched as she, in turn, yanked hers down. Sean’s gaze immediately dropped between her legs. She had scales. He wasn’t sure why that surprised him, but it did. Maybe because her nipples had been bare (grey, but scale free), he expected the same of her more private parts, but no. Her mound was delicate and with her legs tight together, he couldn’t exactly get a good look. His blue eyes flickered up to her face. 

Fern was staring curiously at his penis, but beyond a bit of interest in her gaze, she seemed fairly calm. 

His cheeks went red. It didn’t seem like she had any kind of romantic attraction to him at all. Sure, she was a bit protective of him, but that wasn’t surprising. Especially given her staunch dislike of Erik to begin with. Fern could’ve just been being a good friend. She could’ve just been looking out for him because she thought he couldn’t for himself. Cheeks back to their pale state, Sean’s expression grew thoughtful, and maybe a bit sad, but the brunette didn’t seem to notice.   
The young woman snickered and stroked his hip bones again. “You’re so skinny.”  
She wasn’t flirting with him. She had never flirted with him, never fluttered her eyes in anything other than naivety or confusion and Sean wondered if Fern even knew what it was to be attracted to anyone. 

Then he remembered how she had looked at him on the couch. How her lips had parted and her gaze sharpened as she touched him...and it was nice. To be validated, to know that maybe she did want him. It made him feel less dirty. There were moments in their relationship, as brief as they were, when Sean worried that he was manipulating her affections into something perverted. His stomach knotted as he brushed his fingers through her short hair. It made him sick, knowing he had objectified her like Erik had. More subtly perhaps, but he had done it. Had watched her, lusted after her, albeit in a less aggressive manner than Erik had; one that frightened her, that made her so unsure of her own appearance that she took steps toward altering it. 

Thumbing her cheek, he forced himself to smile. Sean had been certain she could hate him if she knew, but Fern was peering up at him, completely comfortable being so close to him. Touching him with fond, curious hands and there was no fear in her eyes. Nothing to suggestion hesitance or confusion.

At his silence, Fern offered a reassuring smile. Blue orbs twinkling, she told him softly, “I do. Like you, you know.”

The redhead smirked. “I like you too, Fe.”

“I know.” Using her toes, she kicked her pants up and caught them. Folding them, she ignored his chuckle. 

“You know?” His brows rose as she bent and did the same to his own. Covering his crotch casually with his hands, Sean snickered. “Someone’s cocky.”

As she stood, the young woman shrugged, chin high and proud. “I noticed you looking at me a few times.”

He sobered, spine straightening as realization passed over his freckled features. “Like Erik does.”

“No.” Fern frowned. “Not like Erik. Like you. You don’t scare me. You don’t intimidate me-”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She pushed some of his shaggy bangs from his eyes. Sean blinked. She was paying him a genuine compliment. Vaguely, he wondered how many people she came across on a daily basis that frightened her, but merely let her continue, “You look at me like I’m a person.” Fern thumbed his cheek with a hint of a frown. “Not many people do.”

Sadness pulled at the corner of his mouth. “So you’re doing this to thank me.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Her eyes sharpened at him. As she relaxed, she stroked her fingers down his throat to caress his collarbone. “I’m doing this because I want to, and because I want you, and I know you want me, too.”

Sean blushed, but didn’t deny it. Instead, he nodded. “I do.”

“I know, I just said that.” The grey girl dropped her chin to her chest and bit her lip before squaring her shoulders. Curious, and a bit apprehensive, she asked, “Do you like me because of how I look?”

He chuckled. “No.”

“Do you like me despite how I look?” Her blue eyes were surprisingly earnest, almost tentative as her gaze flickered over his face.

Sean shook his head. “No.” His gangly shoulders bobbed in an almost absent manner. “I just like you and your body. I mean, you were always cool looking and then I got to know you a bit and saw more, I noticed parts of you...of your body and I like it. I like how you look, but it’s not the most important thing.” His gaze softened and he put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not the only thing.” 

A smile drifted over the man’s lips as her scales shimmered; he recognized the pattern, a pleased, subtle twirl over her entire body. Tipping her chin up, Sean opened his mouth to speak, only to have another voice cut through the room.

“Guys, we’re home!”

The couple shared a panicked look before they rushed to cover themselves. Once fully dressed, the two leapt on the bed, head to foot. As Sean pulled a pillow under his head, Fern cleared her throat.

“Uh, Cassidy, you might want to you know, roll over.”

“Huh?” He frowned and looked down. His boner looked back up at him. Blushing, he cussed and turned onto his stomach. 

At the sound of footsteps outside the door, the two of them quickly feigned being asleep. The bedroom door peeked open.

“Guys?” Raven whispered. When she realized the light was on, she spoke a little louder. “Guys, you up?”

Sean’s head popped up the pillow. Cheeks a fiery red, he raked a hand through his hair and settled a little deeper into the mattress. “Hey, what’s up?”

Fern chose to merely groan and cover her face with her arm.

“We brought pizza,” Raven sang playfully.

Interest peaked, the brunette sat up.

The woman blinked then giggled as she handed the box to Sean. The redhead dropped it onto the mattress beside him, but didn’t sit up.

“Hey, Fern?” The blonde asked with a grin. “You know your shirt’s inside out, right?”

The grey girl arched a brow and set the box on Sean’s back. Opening it, she ignored the faint swirl of embarrassment her scales gave and offered a placid, “So?”

Raven waved her off. As she spun to leave, she teased, “Just letting you know.”

The door closed behind her and Sean rolled onto his back.

Fern huffed before she bit into the pizza. “I miss the country.”

“Gimmie a bite.” He opened his mouth expectantly.

“Get your own.” At his pout, the brunette rolled her eyes and fed him a bite. As he chewed, he offered her a smug smile. Fern glared at him. “Crybaby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my wonderful beta, Linda Ku!


	25. Sensitive Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my amazing beta, Linda Ku!

Despite being head to foot, the couple slept peacefully throughout the night. Even if Sean did wake up with Fern’s foot on the back of his head. Groaning, he rolled onto his back. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, he rested his cheek against her ankle; her scales scratched at his sensitive skin, waking him completely.

 

A deep sigh made him grimace as a sharp pain shot between his shoulder blades. With a groan, he brought a hand up to rub his face. His fingers felt odd...rougher than usual and a bit tender.  A quick glance at his right one confirmed they were red and splotchy. It didn’t hurt, but it was annoying. Chalking it up to an allergy from the chlorine, he pushed it to the back of his mind. He had been raised not to complain, especially not about things he couldn’t change anyway. With a sigh, he lifted his head.

 

Fern was still sound asleep. Her short hair was sticking up in every direction, a stark black against his milky skin. She had one of her long legs kicked up to her chest and the other, of course, had been thrown over Sean’s torso. She didn’t seem to mind that her pillows were, in fact, the redhead’s feet. Snickering, Sean rolled his ankles.

 

The brunette murmured and pulled his legs closer to her lithe form. “Bruno, no.”

 

“I think you mean _Sean yes_ ,” The young man said.

 

Fern didn’t reply.

 

Slipping his feet out from under her, and ignoring her whines, Sean crawled over to her. “Are you still asleep? Get up! We’ve got training today.”

  
“I can’t train today.” The grey mutant turned her face away from him to glare at her dresser. Toes flexing, she buried her face deeper into the mattress as he slipped under her arm. “I spent all night with some ginger idiot who doesn’t know how to stay still.”

 

“I was asleep!”

 

Fern huffed as he nuzzled into the cool skin of her neck. “So?”

 

“So come on.” Sean offered her jaw a peck. A grin crossed his features as her skin rippled. Fingers trailing over her spine, the two of them laid in silence for a few moments. The faint sound of his nails teasing the thin material of her t-shirt could be heard, but beyond their breathing, it was quiet.  

 

The brunette sighed and shifted closer to him as he began to stroke down her back, her shoulders, her sides. In return, her fingers found his shaggy hair. Fern wasn’t sure why it was so easy to accept affection from Sean. Maybe it was because he was taking her at face value, knowing only what she told him. With Josie, everything was out on the table. Fern had always worried there was pity behind her mother’s kindness; Josie had seen her when she was just a scrawny orphan, seen her nightmares and her panic attacks...but Sean didn’t know about those and his affections weren’t familial either. They were new, intimate, and not only was Fern curious about them, she was excited by it. She fluffed his red hair, making it even more messy than it already was.

 

Sean’s expression went from mellow to puckered as his own brushed the edge of her t-shirt. Her skin felt...different, under it. Curious, he gathered the white material up around her waist and looked down. A patch of scales was...missing, or at least damaged, and he glanced at Fern’s face.

 

Her mouth was tight, but she didn’t stop him as he traced a finger around the edge of her scar.

 

“Is this what you didn’t want me to see?” He brushed his thumb along the light grey skin.

 

The girl blinked at the sensation of another person touching it. It was queer, almost painful, the skin hypersensitive to pressure of any kind and while Sean’s fingers were gentle, they were still foreign. Bottom lip between her teeth, she let him ease her onto her back.

 

The young man shuffled down. With his ankles crossed behind him, he laid on his stomach, his face level with the scar. Stroking it tenderly, the redhead rested his head on her stomach. “What happened?”

 

Fern stared at the ceiling. She could feel her hands clenching, her nails digging into her palm as anxiety rose in her. Scales twisting, Fern licked her teeth and took a deep breath as the membrane flickered over her eyes. Voice even but quiet, she told him, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

The boy was quiet for a moment, but only a moment. “When my powers were developing, I used to get nose bleeds.” Sean shifted his touch to trail over the thin, barely noticeable scars on her stomach. He hadn’t noticed them the night before. Tentatively, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to one of them, then another. “A nun said they happened because God was mad at me.”

 

Fern flinched at the omission, and admittedly at the intimate touch. Her hands found his hair, his neck, his shoulders and she offered any skin she could reach a consoling rub. Her setae made him shudder, but when Sean only pushed closer to her, she offered him a somewhat tactless, “Heavy.”

 

With a nod, he chuckled. “Yep. That’s why I don’t like nuns.” Sean rested his chin on her abdomen. “Now you tell me what you don’t like doctors.”

 

Fern frowned at the white plaster above them. Her skin swirled with annoyance, but it softened as his index finger followed the pattern. With a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth, she ran her nails carefully up his arm. “I never agreed to that.”

 

“Come on, Fe. I won’t tell anyone.”

 

Knowing he wouldn’t, the brunette hummed. “When I was in the orphanage, they used to let this guy come in and do stuff to me.” She cringed as Sean pressed another kiss to her stomach. Ignoring him, she ran her finger over his knuckles. Jaw tight, Fern kept her tone simple and plain, like they were talking about something else entirely as she explained, “He called himself _Doctor_ and wore a lab coat and now I’m scared of doctors and people too, a little bit.”

 

He nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”

 

She smiled at the ceiling and he grinned as appreciation and relief passed through her scales. After a moment’s consideration, Sean’s lips returned to her skin. The girl under him flinched as his mouth pressed over the sensitive scar and began to suck.

 

“What the hell are you doing?!”

 

“Giving you a hickey,” the young redhead murmured into her flesh. When she made a noise, he clarified, “That way when you see it, you’ll think of me and not him.”

 

Fern gasped as he continued to suck. Teeth clenched, she couldn’t really decide how she felt, but simply let him continue, because while it was a bit painful, she liked how it felt- and she liked the thought behind the action.

 

After a few seconds, he pulled back to admire his handy work. Thumbing the dark splotch of shiny skin, he nodded his approval. “That should do it.”

 

Fern sat up. It was a little awkward to see, but she managed it. She poked the bruise and frowned. “How is this supposed to help again?”

 

The redhead lifted his brows. “What are you thinking about?”

 

“How you just assaulted me.”

 

Sean beamed. “See. Working already.”

 

Fern grumbled, but a smile wound over her mouth as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

 

As he dropped back onto the mattress beside her with a huff, Sean opened his arms to her. “Come here.”

 

“What? You think just because I let you feel me up I’m gonna be nice to you?”

 

“No.” His smile turned impish. “Maybe. Come here.”

 

With a sigh, the young woman slipped into his arms. As he cradled her to his chest, Sean rubbed her arm and offered her brow a peck. “Nothing like that is ever going to happen to you again, okay? Not while I’m around.”

 

“My hero,” Fern drawled sarcastically. Still, her skin betrayed her tone and shimmered with genuine gratitude.

 

“While any of us are around.” He peered down at her to find her looking back at him. Her expression was open and hopeful and almost painfully trusting and he pressed another kiss to her forehead. “We ain’t gonna let you get hurt like that ever again.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Don’t dismiss me,” Sean teased. He offered her arm a rub, careful not to press too hard on the glands. “I mean it.”

 

The grey girl clutched him a bit tighter, but didn’t let the silence linger. “We’re supposed to start sparring today.”

 

He cuddled closer to her. “Yep.”

 

“I’m gonna have to kick your ass.” There was absolutely no regret in her voice.

 

“What?!”

 

“What? Chances are we’ll get paired up.” Fern grinned and sat up. When Sean moved to follow, she pushed him back down by the forehead. “And I will show you no mercy.”

 

He let out a chuckle as his blue eyes narrowed at her. “Thanks!”

 

Giggling, Fern grabbed some clothes from her drawer. When she moved toward the bathroom, Sean’s curious voice followed her. “Where you goin’, Ailey?”

 

She cast him a puzzled glance. “To get changed.”

 

“In the bathroom?” He perked his brows up and leaned up on his elbows. A sly grin crossed his lips. “After last night?”

 

Her skin rippled with embarrassment. Dropping a cocky hip, she crossed her arms (throwing her sweater over her shoulder in the process), and asked, “If I get changed in here, you’re gonna wind up walking around with a hard on again.”

 

“I’m not some hormonal teenaged boy, Fe!”

 

“Yes, you are.” She grabbed her tensor bandage from the floor with her toes.

 

Sean sobered at the sight of it. With pursed lips, he sat up, grabbing his ankles briefly before he awkwardly rubbed his legs. “What’s that for?”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re binding again?” He slipped off the bed. Fern pursed her lips, but didn’t try to stop him when Sean put his hands on her shoulders. As he rubbed caring circles into the sharp bones of her collar, his frown deepened. “I mean, it doesn’t seem... healthy, doing that two days in a row.”

 

The brunette shrugged. His itchy, aching hands rose and fell with the movement. “I’ll be fine.”

 

“You sure?” Sean asked, obviously not convinced.

 

Still, when she nodded, he let her go.

 

Fern offered him a tight simper before she stripped out of her t-shirt. Jaw clenched, the redhead sat back on the bed. He watched with morbid curiosity as she fixed the bandage around her chest, pushing her breasts down in an attempt to seem less desirable, less feminine and felt his stomach turn. Lips pursed, he absently smoothed a piece of it down under her ribs before she pulled a fresh a-shirt on. Leaning back from her, Sean watched as she slipped a long sleeve thermal shirt over her head.

 

“You really think Xavier’s going to make us spar?”

 

“Probably.” Fern shrugged as she pulled her pants down. Ignoring how his gaze flickered over her legs and ass, she slid on a fresh pair of undies. When he reached out to snap the band of them, she smacked his hand away and vowed not to go easy on him. “We’re probably in the same weight class.”

 

Sean scratched the back of his hand. “I don’t want to fight you.”

 

“Because I’m girl?”

 

“No, because _I don’t want to fight you_.”

 

“That’s probably the fear talking.” Her gaze fell knowingly to his crotch. At the small tent he seemed to be pitching, Fern smirked. “Or your dick.”

 

“Why can’t it be my heart?!”

 

Fern just stared at him. After a long moment, she gave the front of his pants a knowing, somewhat condescending tap.

 

Sean blushed scarlet. “The dick is attached to the heart!”

 

“Technically all the organs are attached to the heart.”

 

He glared at her, and glared harder when she pulled a pair of sweats on. At least her butt had been a friend through the slander.

 

“Oh, and by the way,” She spun to face him and gave his forehead a quick jab with her index finger. “You’re never sleeping with me again.”

 

The young man grabbed one of her sweatshirts from the floor and secured it around his waist. Erection effectively hidden (unless someone was really looking for it, but besides Fern, he couldn’t imagine anyone who would), he replied in the same nonchalant, but still somehow persistent, manner, “Oh, yes, I am.”

 

“Oh, no, you’re not,” Fern mocked back as they slipped into the hallway. “You take up too much room.”

 

“ _I_ take up too much room?!” Sean shot back incredulously. His fingers found hers, but he didn’t pull her to his side. Instead, he reminded her with a gentle hip check, “You were using my head as a foot rest!”

 

“I’m entitled! It’s my bed!”

 

“ _Wow_ ,” A voice mocked from behind them. It was filled with mirth and when the couple turned, they found Alex approaching them. His smile was wide and smug and he shook his head as he gave Sean a light shove. “I didn’t know you were that desperate for a bed warmer!”

 

Still blushing hard, the redhead shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Fern’s skin wavering, her expression going hard, and he snapped, “Man, shut the hell up!”

 

“What?! It was just a joke, I know you and Fern would never, you know…” The blond wrinkled his nose and glanced at the girl. He offered her a smirk, but her expression didn’t change. Without a word, Fern stormed off, leaving them alone. Alex frowned after her. “What’s her problem?”

 

Sean shook his head. “You are such an asshole.”

 

“What?! What’d I say?!”

 

As the redhead followed her lead, Fern made her way to down to the kitchen. Sean took off to his room to get ready for the day, but the brunette paid him no mind as she greeted Hank at the table.

 

The bespectacled young man glanced up from his oatmeal. “Hey.”

 

Jaw tight, Fern considered a few moments before she decided to offer an olive branch. It was the right thing to do; after all, they lived together, they were on the same side, and she couldn’t really blame him for his low self-esteem. “So...thanks for helping me with my hair.” She licked her teeth. “And making me a suit to keep my insides from turning into scrambled eggs. I appreciate it and I’m sorry I got so defensive.”

 

Hank offered her a limp shrug. His features were passive, but not completely open and his voice suggested a bit of hesitance as he told her, “It’s fine.”

 

“I meant what I said.” The young woman sat in the chair in front of him. “But I guess it’s not my place to judge want you want to do with your own body.”

 

“It’s not mine, either. I’m sorry if I crossed a line-”

 

“Me, too. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”

 

He smiled at her and nodded. “Okay.” His eyes flickered over her face. “You did your bangs. They look good.”

 

She absently primped the short black strands “It feels so weird, like my head’s lighter.”

 

“Well,” Hank straightened as his tone took a decidedly more excited tone. “It is. An inch of human hair weighs approximately fifty micrograms so with the six inches cut off that’s 0.0003 grams of hair.”

 

Fern stared at him a long moment before offering a slow nod. “Right. Well, I saved you some. For science, I mean. Not like, to keep, that’d be weird, but I know you’re doing some kind of DNA stuff, so I thought that could be a start.”

 

Hank grinned at her, but it was bittersweet. “That’s a really nice gesture, but they wouldn’t contain any DNA.”

 

Her brow furrowed. His oatmeal smelt really good and it was kind of distracting her. “They wouldn’t?”

 

“No. DNA is found in the hair follicle, not the strand.”

 

“Oh.” What was in there? Cinnamon? It smelt like cinnamon. Absently, she plucked a strand of hair from her head and offered it to him. “Just don’t rush me into anything else.”

 

When he beamed at her, Fern felt a bit of guilt for her ploy, but it quickly ebbed away as he rushed off to test her and left her with a mostly full bowl of delicious oatmeal. Grinning to herself, she pulled the bowl in front of her and set in on it...just as Alex entered the room.

 

Her gaze sharpened at him, but besides merely canting her body to protect her meal, Fern offered him no acknowledgement. She watched as he gathered a box of cereal and set a jug of orange juice in front of her. Grabbing it, the young woman ignored his scowl as she began to chug it directly from the container.

 

The moment it left her lips, he snatched it back from her. Taking a swig, Alex seemed to consider his words a moment before he told her, rather bluntly, “Your boyfriend’s too damn touchy.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Alex’s eyebrows rose at the lack of denial. “Yeah.” As he dropped into the chair across from her, he stuck his hand in the cereal box. After a pensive moment, he cleared his throat. He thought of how annoyed Sean had been, how the usually unflappable young man had sneered at him and felt a pang of guilt. Not a big one, but still. “Look...I know I rag on you a lot, ‘cause you know, look at you, but I don’t...mean it. You know that, right?”

 

“Wait-” Feigning stupidity, Fern blinked. “Do I look weird? Am I abnormal looking? No one has ever mentioned that before!” As he rolled her eyes at her fake smile, she went on with a snarl, “Wow, Alex, you must be really observant, you fucking tool.”

 

Gaze levelled, the blond pursed his lips. “I’m trying to apologize.”

 

“You’re not very good at it.” She reached over and took the container back from him before she squinted at him. “And which, of your many, insults are we talking about?”

 

Alex squinted right back. “This morning. When I took that shot at Sean for sleeping with you.”

Unwilling to let him get off so easily, she arched a near invisible brow. “What about it?”

 

“I don’t care if you guys...you know.” Eyes on the table between them, Alex scratched the back of his neck. “It’s none of my business. Sometimes I just like to get a rise out of people. I didn’t mean for you to take it so personally.”

 

“I didn’t,” Fern replied. She had been a bit embarrassed, sure, but she hadn’t taken his words to heart.

 

The young man pursed his lips. “Sean did.”

 

She lifted a passive shoulder. “He’s a bit touchy about people making fun of me, especially after what Hank said.”

 

“Why? What did Hank say?”

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

Alex eyed her skeptically. He wouldn’t pretend to know Fern very well, and he hadn’t made much of an effort to, but he knew something was going on with her. The blond wasn’t sure if it was some kind of identity crisis but she had been acting kind of cagey. Or at least more cagey than normal the last few times he saw her. With a hum, he pushed back his chair. “You wanna see something cool?”

 

Fern pursed her lips. “It’s not your penis is it?”

 

She had seen enough of those in the last twenty four hours.

 

Alex reeled back. Cheeks pink, he snapped, “No!”

 

“Then sure.” Fern shrugged and dropped her, well, Hank’s, spoon into the bowl. As she stood, she nodded.  “Lead the way.”

 

And so he did. The bunker was cold, probably too cold to swim comfortably in, but Fern didn’t seem to mind. A grin broke across her face at the sight of the pool. Her skin, her whole body, went from her usual flint grey to a pearl color, almost white, as happiness radiated through her. Grabbing Alex by the arm, she demanded, “What. Is. That?”

 

“You’ve never seen a swimming pool before?”

 

“No I’ve never seen a swimming pool before!” The girl broke into a sprint toward it. Skidding on her knees, she peered into the clear blue water and bounced in place a moment before she called over her shoulder, “Why’s it smell so weird?”

 

“That’s the chlorine.” Alex wrinkled his nose. As he approached her, he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Smells like Sean went a little heavy on it.”

 

Fern turned to face him. Smile still wide, she asked, “Did you do this?”

 

He shrugged as he stood over her. “Well, me and Sean.”

 

“For me?”

 

Alex forced down a smile and instead offered her a simply, somewhat smug nod. “Yep.”

  
With a quiet squeak of glee, Fern gave his calf a quick squeeze before she stood. Crossing his arms, the young man didn’t fight the smirk that pulled at his lips. Alex chuckled as she yanked her thermal over her head. A taunt had been on the tip of his tongue when it smacked him in the face. Grumbling, Alex tossed the shirt to the floor but stayed quiet as she dove into the pool. For a few seconds, the surface was still and calm before a muffled scream broke through the water.

 

Alex’s smile dimmed. Edging closer to the water, he offered a quiet, “Fern?”

 

The girl began to thrash. Her long limbs spasming and shaking as she kicked and screamed in a frenzied panic.

 

The young man grabbed her, only for her to slip from his hold. Her scales damn near tractionless when wet, Alex could only manage to catch the back of her white a-shirt. Heaving her toward the surface, he looped a strong arm under her and all but threw her out of the pool.

 

Her scream was laced with coughing and choking as she convulsed on the tiled floor.

 

“Fer-Fern, stop!” Alex snapped at her. When she didn’t, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pinned her down, or at least tried to. Sharp fingers clawed at his face, his hands, his neck. He flinched as her elbow shot out and snapped back, catching him hard in the jaw, but he barely noticed. In fact, a good portion of his body had gone numb.

 

Disturbed, Alex dropped his gaze to his hands. His palms were covered in sticky black tar, clinging to his skin and making it feel...strange. Tingly. He tried to swallow as the world around him seemed to _tilt_. Nausea pulled at him and he listed back. Vaguely, he wondered what was happening to him, why he couldn’t breathe right and why his hands hurt so much. The faint itch growing into a searing pain as he began to seize.

 

Upstairs, Sean was just about dying from embarrassment. Apparently, not only did Charles know what had transpired between him and the grey skinned mutant the night before, but he approved of it. Or at least, that’s what the box of condoms on his bed that greeted the redhead suggested.

 

He had only just tucked them into a drawer when the sound of frantic foot falls gave him pause. Frowning, he slipped over to the door, just in time for Erik and Charles to race past him. With a chuckle, the redhead called, “Where’s the fire?!”

 

“Tell Hank to ready the med bay!” Charles screamed over his shoulder. “Do it now!”

 

Sean blanched, but did as he was told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, my beta, Linda Ku, is amazing and I love her.


	26. Sore Spots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First things first: trigger warning for body horror.  
> Second thing, shout out to the always amazing Linda Ku for taking the time out to beta this for me. She’s a gift.

The sight that greeted Charles and Erik was horrific.

Alex’s breathing came in short, harsh, choked off bursts that raked his entire body; his eyes rolled back into his head as drool puddled under his cheek. Gurgling, he seized and jerked. The world around him was little more than a grey blur, the odd flash of light under his eyelids making him twitch. His clothes, like the girl’s, were tinged with black ooze.

Fern was in slightly better shape, in that she was at least awake. Clawing at her scales and writhing on the floor, she couldn’t see, but she was conscious. Something was...wrong with her, but the men were too preoccupied by the black that stained her thin clothes to dare approach her.

Between Fern’s distressed whimpers and Alex’s seizures, the two men almost didn’t know where to start. Erik looked to Charles. Helpless, he asked, “How are we supposed to get them upstairs without touching them?”

With a swallow, the shorter man lifted his fingers to his temple and blessed the girl with unconsciousness. As her head lulled back against the tiles, he nodded. It was more to calm himself than to assure Erik of anything. He could still feel Alex’s pain, the boy’s sharp convulsions making Charles’ spine spasm and throat clench as his confusion muddled the Professor’s mind. It didn’t help that Fern’s panic made him hyper-aware of these things, of the pain in his hands and the strange fever like delirium that fuzzed the edges of his vision, but the symptoms depleted somewhat as the duo slumped motionless against the tiles. 

Eyes a bit misty, but voice firm, he turned to the man beside him. “Get the first aid kit.” Charles nodded behind him as he began to undo his jacket. “It’s in the supply closet. It should have a fire blanket inside.”

The man did. With a thick swallow, Charles slowly, meticulously, slipped one of his coat’s sleeves over Fern’s bare, and still oozing, right arm. As he moved to do the same with her left, he noticed her chest. The thin material of her a-shirt clung to her torso; the cotton not translucent like it was on her stomach and shoulders. With a faint hum, he pushed the curiosity aside before easing the other arm through the sleeve. Still, his wariness lingered as Erik returned.

Taking the fire blanket from him, Charles nodded to the boy. Alex had stilled, except for the odd distressed shudder of breath. “Can you manage him?”

With a nod, the taller man slipped his arm under the boy’s shoulders and hefted him up. Alex’s head snapped back. Erik winced and quickly righted his hold. The Summers’ lad let out a strangled breath, unable to put up any kind of fight as the man carried him out of the swimming area.

Alone, Charles returned his gaze to the girl on the floor. She twitched, but was otherwise still. After a moment’s consideration, he began to wrap her in the fire blanket. With her torso covered and her arms tucked inside, he eased Fern into a bridal carry. Steps slow and deliberate, he made his way out the double doors and up the stairs. 

It was hardly the easiest task. Fern was far heavier than she looked. Her willowy frame had been gifted with reedy muscles after years of swimming in Boone Lake. 

Charles struggled to make it up to the lab. When Erik spotted him in the hall, his arms outstretched to help him, the shorter man huffed. Red cheeked, and resentful of the German’s cool composure, Charles snapped, “I can manage.”

It was equal parts pride and loyalty that made him refuse. He was aware of the grey skinned girl’s dislike of the man, and Charles knew she wouldn’t want him touching her- especially when she couldn’t defend herself. He chanced a glance down at Fern. Her scales were an ashy shade of white, the ooze a stark streak of black down her throat and neck.

“Are you sure?”

The hint of doubt in his friend’s voice would have been insulting, had he not seemed so sincere. His blue eyes flickered over to Hank, who was tending to Alex. The boy was laid out on a desk. His body jerked with every spastic, haunting breath he could manage to take- but they were disturbingly rare. Alex’s face was flushed with fever, so clammy with sweat that his skin shined in the bright sunlight of the makeshift lab. He shivered and his teeth chattered. 

When Hank looked over to him, Charles squared his shoulders. In his arms, Fern’s legs twitched, but she remained otherwise still. With a swallow, the Professor raised his chin and nodded to the man behind him. “I’m fine. Guard the door. Don’t let anyone enter.”

Erik frowned and ignored his wishes in favor of following him over to the desk across from Alex’s. As he laid the girl down and began to untangle the foil sheet from her limp body, the taller man shook his head. “The others-”

“Explain the situation while I deal with this.” The Professor pursed his lips as the man lingered. “Now, Erik.” 

With a curt nod, Erik obeyed. Stalking over to the door, he shot the unconscious boy one last glance before shutting the door. 

Brushing his hair back from his face, Charles watched Hank dip a syringe into a small glass vial. “What’s that?”

“Fern gave me a sample of her poison.” The bespectacled young man eased the trigger back before pushing it forward, expelling any air inside before he grasped Alex by the side of his head. “I was able to make an antidote. Can you hold him still?”

Fingers on his temple, the psychic steadied the boy with his mind. “Make it quick. He can’t breath properly.”

“I know.” Hank sunk the needle into the thin skin of Alex’s jugular. 

Charles winced, feeling it ease through his own neck, feeling the (startlingly cold) liquid slide through his veins. “And you think this will help?”

“It should.” He eased the needle out and set it down. Drawing his hand back, Hank reached for a bandage and quickly secured it to Alex’s neck before moving him into the recovery position. 

The reaction wasn’t instantaneous. Alex continued to jerk and gasp, his cheeks flushed pink and his hands clenched up by his chest. Rigid and spastic all at once, his fingers were bent and his arms tight as his seizures kept on. After a minute, they had slowed, but not disappeared.

Hank frowned, grabbed the vial again and readied another syringe as Alex’s breathing remained labored. “That’s strange...I know I gave him the proper dosage for someone his size.”

“Maybe we should give him a moment.”

“No, I designed it to be fast acting…” Hank reached toward the small table he had set up by the makeshift operating table. Picking up a petri tray and a wad of gauze, he offered them to the Professor. “Could you get me a sample?”

“A sample of what?” Charles asked warily, making no move to take them.

The boy frowned at his hesitance. When the Professor finally reached for them, Hank hummed and pulled the bandage back from Alex’s neck. “Her poison, obviously.”

“Is that really necessary?”

Hank’s brows rose. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he offered him a shrug. “It is if it gets more potent with every use.” 

Charles raised his hand once more as Hank steadied the blond man’s head. As the needle once more pressed into Alex’s skin, the psychic winced. “Will he be alright?”

“Should be. There’s nothing to suggest it’s lethal. I mean, maybe if it was ingested...but beyond some discomfort and maybe some tenderness, he should make a full recovery.” Hank paused for a beat. “I mean, I assume. I hope. I can’t really say.”

They were silent a moment. 

Slowly but surely, Alex’s gasps faded into ragged, but steady breathes. His arms eased back to his sides, his fingers limp and steady once more as Hank slipped a throw pillow from the couch under his head. The men shared a relieved chuckle as the blond’s brow furrowed at being jostled. Color was still high on his cheeks, but the sweat had ebbed back as he began to breath easy. Hank rubbed the back of his neck, before skirting his gaze over to the girl. He blanched and Charles was quick to follow his gaze.

Fern was still laying on her back. Her breathing even and steady but something was...wrong with her skin. Bits of it seemed to be pulling away from her body. Thin, papery patches over her cheeks and brow and throat were slowly dominating every visible inch of her scales. 

Wordlessly, Charles offered the petri dish back to Hank. The younger man took it back and asked, “Is there anything we can put her in? You know, something that’s not…?”

“A biohazard?” Charles offered, already striding toward the door. “I’ll grab a robe from her room.”

Hank glanced after him, but merely set the petri dish down. After sliding on a pair of thick rubber gloves, Hank set about gently removing the man’s coat from the girl’s prone form. The sleeves caught on her glands, the gentle motion jerking her supine form. He slipped a hand under her bicep and tugged the left down, then the right. When his gloves came back smeared, he was quick to change them. 

Fern’s white a-shirt clung to her like a second skin, but there were no issues with modesty. The beige tensor bandage around her chest was clearly visible through the translucent material. What wasn’t clear was slicked with black; thick inverted crescents over her hips, her collar and the thin sleeves over her narrow shoulders, there wasn’t as much on the undershirt as there was on Charles’ jacket, but it was still enough to make the young scientist’s stomach knot. Features puckered, Hank reached for a pair of scissors. 

When Charles returned with a pale blue robe slung over his arm, Hank had cut away the bandage. He kept it draped over her chest out of respect, but still asked the Professor what he thought it was for. “It probably kept the water from her lungs, but I mean, it couldn’t have been comfortable. See these marks?”

Charles frowned as Hank eased the material under her breasts. The skin was patchy and pale, but there was a noticeable difference between the bit of her usual grey on her stomach and the thin strip under her breasts. “Yes.”

“I think they’re bruises. Or at least, as close as she can get to being bruised.” He didn’t touch her, but gestured to the dull ring of scales. “See how they’re a different shade of grey?”

“I’m more concerned with the shade of white,” Charles told him as he stepped between the unconscious girl and the young man. “Have you checked her vitals?”

“Of course. Her breathing is good, her blood pressure’s a little high, but nothing to worry about...but there’s something about her eyes.” Hank bit his lip and looked away as Charles dressed the girl methodically. The robe only covered her to mid thigh, but it seemed considerably more respectful than the white underwear she had been left in. 

After cinching the belt, Xavier looked pointedly at him. “You said something about her eyes?”

“Yes, here.” Hank motioned him around to the front of her body. “They seemed cloudy, but that’s hardly unsurprising. It’s this.”

A gloved touch eased her eyelid back. Fern’s eyes had turned from a startling blue to a cloudy white. As the air hit it, something flickered across it. 

Disturbed, Charles stepped back.

“There’s seems to be some sort of membrane...maybe if I just...” Hank slowly eased his finger over her eye. The thin layer of film dragged with it; the translucent skin clinging to the tip of his glove.

Stomach in his throat, Charles gaped with stunned horror. Breathless, he managed, “D-did you just...peel off a layer of her eyeball?”

“Yes,” Hank replied, voice tight with anxiety and perhaps nausea. 

“What’s happening to her?”

“She must be moulting.” The taller man stepped back from the table. He collected the petri dish Charles had so tactfully dodged and scraped the membrane off his glove into the little glass container. At the Professor’s curious glance, he peeled off his gloves. “When reptiles injure themselves they shed their outer scales and regrow fresh ones.”

“She’s regrowing her skin?”

“Theoretically yes.”

“My god.”

With a hint of unease, Hank glanced down at the girl. “Can she hear us?”

“No, no, I’ve completely put her under.”

“You should let me sedate her so you can rest.”

“Yes, I think that might be a good idea. Just not too much, only enough to let her sleep.”

“Of course!”

“Good man,” Charles clapped him on the shoulder. With a deep breath and not another word, he left the small lab with only a nod of goodbye to Erik. 

A few minutes later, the German man found himself faced with three concerned people he had really no interest in placating. 

“What happened?” Moira demanded. 

Erik barely blinked at the woman’s sharp tone. His gaze flickered down to where her hands were on her hips before he lifted a brow. “It seems Miss Ailey isn’t as stable as she led us to believe.”

Her pretty features tight, Raven’s brow creased and her eyes narrowed as she shook her head. “Charles wouldn’t let her come to the mansion if she wasn’t safe to be around.”

Behind her, Sean nodded. The three of them crowded around him, none of them terribly impressed with being shut out of the cadre. 

Erik raised his hand to the doorway. Their entrance blocked, he told the trio, “Charles said no visitors. I’m simply enforcing his wishes.” 

The women readily accepted Charles’ judgement (albeit with some annoyance), but Sean wasn’t so quick to trust Erik’s word. Still, he remained quiet until they were alone. Voice quiet and somber, the redhead leaned in slightly so the man would hear him, “She wouldn’t want you here.”

An amused, bellicose smirk crossed Erik’s lips. Mocking, he too dropped his voice, “I suppose you’re the expert in what women want?”

“I know what you did.” It was a bluff, but when Erik straightened and his eyes darkened, Sean pressed on. Blue eyes sharp and teeth bared, he sneered, “You leave now, or I go in there and tell Charles why Fern’s so afraid of looking like a girl.” 

For a long moment, Erik only glared at him. After considering his options, he raked his gaze over the slender boy before giving a brisk nod and stalking off down the hall.

Feet quiet, Sean slipped inside. Like before, Hank didn’t notice him at first; too busy scribbling down notes with his face glued to his microscope to realize he wasn’t alone. With a swallow, the younger man crept deeper into the lab. His gaze drifted from Alex, still shivering but now pale and otherwise peaceful, to Fern. His steps quickened along with his heart as he stood beside her.

She was damn near unrecognizable; no longer a scaly grey but paper white. Her body seemed to be rejecting her skin, pushing it away from her and turning her an unhealthy ash as it flaked. He was almost afraid to touch her; almost.

A lump formed in Sean’s throat. Tentative fingers brushed her temple, down her brow before he looked back to Alex. The boy shuddered, but didn’t wake. Tone raspy, Sean asked what happened to them.

Behind his desk, Hank jerked away from his microscope. Wide eyed and stunned, he managed, “I- Erik was supposed to be watching the door!”

“Are they okay?”

At his friend’s misty stare and strained tone, Hank sighed. Pushing his glasses up, he stood. “Alex should be fine thanks to the samples Fern gave me after Shaw’s attack.” His lips pursed at the sight of Sean stroking the unconscious woman’s cheek. “You shouldn’t touch her. It’s-”

“Not safe?!” Sean snapped at him. Color rising in his cheeks, he shook his head. “Don’t tell me she’s not safe, Hank!”

“I wasn’t going to.” Hank shook his head. Right eyebrow raised, he leaned back. “I just don’t know how her skin will react to the added stimulation. It could be painful for her.”

The redhead blinked and recoiled slightly. Drawing his hand back from Fern’s face, he dropped his gaze and his voice, “I’m sorry.”

Noticing the burns on his friend’s fingers, Hank hummed. The scientist grabbed him by the elbow. Jerking his arm forward, Hank frowned at the sight of Sean’s hand. The skin was still splotchy and red. “What happened to you?”

“Oh, I guess I had an allergic reaction to the chlorine or something.”

“You too?” Hank considered a moment before he stepped back from him. “How much did you put in the pool yesterday?”

“Uh, the whole bag?”

The brunet’s brows rose behind his glasses. Incredulous, he stared at him. “The...the entire bag? For one pool?”

“Uh, yeah?” Sean hesitated. “Charles said it was really important it was clean.”

“The entire bag,” Hank repeated. Shaking his head, he reached for his notes. “That didn’t seem a little excessive to you?”

“A bit but-” Blinking, the redhead blanched. “What, you’re saying this is my fault?!”

The bespectacled man sighed and pushed his glasses up. “No, of course not, you couldn’t have known-”

“But if I had been more careful she-” Sean cringed as realization dawned on him. This was his fault. If he had just taken a few minutes to read the instructions on the damn bag, his friends would’ve been fine. Bile rising in his throat, he looked away from Hank, turning to face Alex’s body. He watched his friend’s chest rise and fall a moment before he finished, “They would’ve been okay, right?”

Hank shrugged. “There’s no way of knowing that.”

Guilt knotted his stomach as he braced his hands on the desk Alex laid on. The unconscious man was pale and sweaty. Keeping his tone low and blank, the redhead asked what kind of long term effects they might have.

“For Alex, most likely nothing serious.” Slowly, almost cautiously, Hank approached the redhead. He had never seen Sean quite so...morose. He had seen him serious and angry, but this was new. New and frightening and Hank didn’t like it one bit. Still, he kept his voice level and strong as he stopped beside him, “He may experience some sensitivity in his hands. Perhaps a tremor in the long term, but he’ll most likely make a full recovery.” 

“And Fe?”

When Sean’s eyes rose to his, misty and red, Hank couldn’t hold his gaze. Instead he looked to the grey mutant on the table a few feet away. “At this time, the most we know is that her eyes have been severely damaged-”

The younger man sucked in a sharp breath.

“But given her abilities,” The scientist rushed, “I think she will, too. Make a full recovery, I mean.”

“How long until they wake up?”

“We’re keeping them both heavily sedated until the worst of the pain passes.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Hank sighed. “I think the Professor would rather you let them rest.”

Sean rolled his eyes and pushed away from the desk. Not roughly, not enough to jar his injured friend, but enough to get him on his feet. “How am I supposed to train with them here?”

“He didn’t bar visitors to punish you, or them. The fact of the matter is, this is a medical emergency. We have no idea how their bodies could react to infection or the added stress of having people around.”

Clenching his hands a moment, he asked, “You’ll tell me if there’s any change, right?”

The dark haired man nodded. “As soon as they’re strong enough for visitors you’ll be the first to know.”

“Thanks, man.”

Without another word, Sean left. 

Hours passed before either of the two patients stirred. The sun had set, leaving only the sharp white lights from the overhead lamps. The harsh glow earned a quiet groan from the girl. Her eyes hypersensitive to the light, she turned her face away from them. Pushing her cheek deeper into the pillow, she swallowed. Her skin felt strange; like insects were crawling all over her, pulling and biting at her scales. It didn’t hurt, not quite, but she didn’t like it. It was almost like her skin was too tight. Her nose wrinkled at the sound of footsteps and she braced herself.

“How’re you feeling?” The voice was familiar, but it took his next question for her to place it. “Are you in any pain?”

Hank. She relaxed slightly. “No.” Fern took a deep inhale through her nose before she sighed. Annoyance crept into her colorless features. “Itchy.”

Her friend, if he could be called that (he liked to think he could be) chuckled and pulled his thick rubber gloves up a bit higher. “Hopefully that will pass.”

The brunette clenched her toes. She didn’t like being prone in his presence, much less when she couldn’t see what he was doing. Her eyelids felt heavy and sore and so did her tongue. “What’s happenin’ to me?”

“You seem to be...shedding, for lack of a better term.” Hank slipped over to her other side. Standing somewhere near her head, if she had to guess. The young woman swallowed again. Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. Hank didn’t notice, too focused on the fact that she was awake when the dose of sedatives he had given her should have kept her out through the night. “Has this happened to you before?

“Once.” The girl twisted, rolling onto her side. A vague tearing sound could be heard as her skin split, but she merely let out a relieved hum. “When I was thirteen and hit a growth spurt.” 

“Thirteen?” Hank repeated. He tilted his head and carefully adjusted the robe when it had fallen. Knowing she would be uncomfortable with the indecent amount of leg, he took great care to keep his touch as distant from her actual body as possible, simply letting the material drape over her knee. “That’s late for a girl.” 

Fern didn’t notice his discomfort. “Casten said it was ‘cause I was malnourished when I was little.” She dug her cheek against the smooth wood of the desk, hoping to ease the itch under it. “Said it should’a stunted my growth more but...”

The man nodded and took up where she left off, “You’re healing factor took care of it.”

“And my ma.” A crooked grin crossed her lips, but she didn’t open her eyes. “Can I see her?”

Uncertain, Hank blinked. “Fern, Josie isn’t here?”

“What?!” The dull alarm was heartbreaking, almost more so than the pained whimper she gave when she foolishly tried to open her eyes. Covering her face with her arm, the girl shook her head. “Where is she?! What happened to her?!”

More importantly, what had she done to her, Fern wondered. 

“She’s fine,” Hank assured her, gently putting a hand on her shoulder. Fern tried to roll away from it, but didn’t have the strength. Sensing this, he kept his tone soft, “She’s back in Tennessee. You’re in Salem, remember?”

“Salem,” the girl repeated, as if tasting the word with a heavy tongue. The ridged scales of her brows rose slightly. “Sean?”

A small smirk pulled at the young man’s mouth. “He’s fine, too.”

“I can’t see nothin’.” She pouted. Pushing her face against the edge of the desk, she sighed as her skin split open, easing the strange pressure under her scales.

“That should pass.”

“Did anyone get hurt cause’a me?”

Hank pursed his lips and decided to lie. His gaze slipped over to Alex, who was laying peacefully on the other desk. “No, Fern. Everyone’s fine.”

The relief made her bones lighter. “Good.”

“Would you like to get some more sleep? I have a sedative ready if-”

“No!” A thin arm jerked up to cover her neck. Another rip was heard as she frantically shook her head. “No thanks.”

With a nod, the man stepped back. “Alright...would you mind if I assessed your eyes? I’d like to see if there’s been any damage.”

The guilt in his tone was palpable, but she didn’t notice. “Too bright.”

“It’ll only take a second, I’ll dim the lights.”

Fern considered a moment. She really didn’t want to be experimented on, especially not when she was too weak to defend herself, but she trusted Hank. If he was going to do something to her, he would’ve done it while she was under. Considering the only thing she could feel was the strange strain of her scales, she assumed he hadn’t. “Fine. Help me up.”

“Let me get the lights first.” 

A few seconds past before the unbearable brightness above her lessened. She chanced peeking an eye open and winced. Her vision was blurry. She tried to swipe the membrane over her eye and failed. Annoyed, she asked, “What happened?”

“You had an extreme reaction to the amount of chlorine in the swimming pool.”

Rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand, Fern winced. With each passing second, she could feel herself becoming more and more alert, but she pressed back the need to complain. 

“Okay, ready?”

“I guess.” Instinctively, the slim brunette’s jaw clenched as Hank’s hands gripped her elbow. “You didn’t do anything to me while I was asleep, didya?”

“No!”

“I mean science stuff. Not pervert stuff.”

“No.” And he truly hadn’t. He had been incredibly tempted to take a blood sample, but Hank had refrained. She had been through enough without having her trust abused as well. “I swear I didn’t.”

“Okay.”

“I mean, I tried to check your eyes, but...I think I might’ve broke one of them.”

“Broke them?” She repeated skeptically. 

“Just one! The left one.”

“That’s reassuring.” With a long, slow exhale, Fern gestured to her face. “Well, go on then. Let’s get this over with.”

Hank smiled and gently took her by the chin. One hand held her still while his free thumb framed her sharp cheekbone. “Here, just let me-” His lips thinned as the patch of paper thin scales tore under his touch, leaving him holding a long strip of her skin. It was an ashy white against his glove. Underneath lay a sharp line of fresh black scales which shimmered as the light touched them.

All Hank saw was the skin in his hand. Eyes wide, he gaped at it.

The girl squinted at him. Even through the thick blur, she could see the horror on his face. Annoyed, she asked, “You just ripped part of my face off, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t mean it!” Hank squeaked. “I’m sorry! Did it hurt? I mean, you didn’t even-”

“It doesn’t hurt.” Fern twisted, stretching her back and sides and earning audible tears from them as well. The saetae on her fingertips caused a few more tiny rips from her skin as she reached across her chest to rub her shoulder blade. “It feels a bit better. Less tight.” 

Wide eyes watched her wrinkle her nose. Shaking off his surprise (and disgust), Hank blinked. “Well, shall we?”

“Do I have to?” At his chuckle, Fern dropped her hand and opened her eyes. Both of them this time. Wider. One of them was still blurry, but the other was fairly clear. Not perfect, but the more it adjusted to the light, her vision perfected itself. 

The first thing she saw was Alex. Realization dawned on the young brunette and her spine straightened. Her hand came up to close the front of her navy robe. It was then she realized her scales were caked with her dried poison. That Hank was wearing red rubber gloves up to his elbows. Stomach in knots, Fern edged off the desk. As her toes hit the carpet, she cringed. She hated how carpet felt in her saetae.

Still, the young woman powered through it and ignored Hank’s steadying hand on her shoulder as she nodded to the prone blond boy. 

“How long’s he been out?”

“He’s going to be fine.”

Frowning, she squinted up at him. He was blurry around the edges and she closed her left eye. Her right caught the worry in his face just fine. “That’s not what I asked.”

“You should be resting.”

The girl bristled. “I’m fine.”

“Really?” Hank asked, eyebrows skeptically high. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“How many am I holding up?” She countered, raising her middle one.

The young man frowned. “That’s uncalled for.”

“Is he gonna be okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” the scientist assured her. He pushed up his glasses with the hand not helping to steady her. “I mean, there might be some lasting fatigue and maybe some tenderness, but he should be fine.”

Fern nodded. “I should shower.”

“That’s probably a good idea. Here, let me-”

“I can do it myself.” She squirmed in his hold.

“I know, just let me help you get up to your room.”

“Fine.”


	27. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first: trigger warning for body horror and what could be considered self-harm.  
> Second thing, shout out to the always amazing Linda Ku for taking the time out to beta this for me. She’s a gift.

Once they reached her room, Fern slammed the door in Hank’s face. The young man blinked with surprise at the sound of the lock clipping into place.

“Fern?” He raised a hand to knock, but thought better of it. Tucking his fingers against his chest, he pressed his ear to the door. At the sound of her rooting around, the young man raised his voice, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Fern sighed, more to herself than him. Frustration made her scales twinge and she rubbed her arm. At the audible rip, she sighed again and looked at the thin strips of scales between her fingers. Aching eyes stared at them a long time. How inhuman could she possibly get? Hurting people with her skin? Her stomach twisted and she let the strip fall to the floor. It seemed to flutter a moment, swaying in the air as it fell. It wasn’t even skin, it was...bestial. Her hand drifted to the missing patch of scales on her side and she swallowed. No wonder people were scared of her. Swallowing the rush of guilt and shame she felt, Fern sneered as he spoke once more.

“What?”

Her hand fell and her voice rose. “I said I’m fine!” 

Hank leaned away at the slight shriek in her tone. Concerned and a bit nervous, he pressed, “Are you sure? I could get Charles?”

“Just leave me alone!”

“Or Sean? Do you want me to get Sean?”

“I want you to fuck off, okay?!” Features drawn, she made her way to the bathroom. 

Shutting and locking that door as well, the girl huffed and stripped out of the robe they had given her. Her lips curled back at the sight of the scraps of her tensor bandage. All but throwing it in the trash, she pushed her undies down her legs before kicking on the tub’s faucet. Fern stared at it a moment, simply watching the water rush out as steam began to fill the room.

Her hands fell to her hips. Digging her nails in, she began to slash at the strange papery covering. It was just damaged skin; damaged scales, that were useless to her. Just an itchy distraction and she didn’t want to see them. She didn’t want the reminder of what she had done.

Alex…

Ignoring the odd drop of blood where she pressed too deeply, Fern snarled and sliced at her face, her neck, her shoulders. The shroud of her dead scales fluttered to the tiled floor, blanketing it in her mistakes as her movements became frantic. Desperate to get it off, to get rid of the evidence that made her fresh black scales ache as they began to swirl for the first time. Not grey but iridescent. Her breath came in quick, panicked breaths. Her lungs felt tight and the room seemed to be closing in on her as the membrane tried and failed to flick over her eyes. Claws dipping between her breasts, she ignored the odd patch that clung to her, not ready to be stripped, and forced them to give way with an audible, stomach turning rip. A sharp searing pain cleared her head.

With a wince, she paused at the sight of the grey skin between her fingers. Fern let it fall to the tiled floor. The membrane over her right eye flickered and she panted. What the hell was she doing? Leaning back against the sink, Fern winced at the sight of blood on a piece of her old skin. With her feet kicked up on the edge of the tub, she took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves, but whenever she got even a marginal handle of them, she remembered what she had done to Alex.

Alex, who was a pain in the ass on the best day.

Alex, who always had some snide, sarcastic comment.

Alex, who had only been trying to do something nice for her.

Stomach in knots, the young woman crawled into the tub. The hot water burned her sensitive fresh scales, but she forced herself to stay submerged. Her sharp fingernails slid between her new and old ones and began to gently slice and tug the damaged ones away.

Kicking the faucet, she shut the water off. 

Vaguely, she could hear a commotion outside the door, but the young mutant didn’t have it in her to pay it any mind. Toes flexing on the porcelain rim, her eyes closed.

A soft voice entered her mind. “Fern?”

“Go away, Charles.”

“Is everything alright? Hank said you were-”

“A bitch I know, don’t worry about it.”

“He didn’t put it quite like that. Are you alright?”

Sharp fingernails drifted along her stomach to cup her missing scales. Throat catching, she thought of Sean and how easily it could’ve been him in Alex’s place and felt the damaged membranes try to flicker over her eyes once more. “I should’ve never come here.”

She could practically feel his sigh. It was disturbing, having him in her head. “Fern, nobody thinks that.”

“I don’t care what they think!” Sitting up, she ignored the water that splashed onto the floor. “I know it! I should’ve known better! I shouldn’t have gotten so comfortable; I forgot…”

From outside the door, the man prompted gently, “You forgot…?”

“How dangerous I am,” The girl whispered to herself. Turning her face from the door, she rested her cheek on her knee. Flexing her toes, she watched her scales twirl. A few of them struggled to, too weak from the trauma of being shed before they were ready to properly emote for her.

Charles heard her just fine. “Fern. Come out.”

Knees tucked up to her chest, she held them tight and buried her face in their fresh scales. “Just...leave me alone.”

Frowning, the man did just that. She felt him leave her mind and heard him leave her room and she wondered what she should do. Undoubtedly, the logical thing to do was leave. She had hurt a team mate- Fern was lucky they weren’t kicking her out, or worse, having her arrested. 

Sighing, she rested her chin on top of her knee and peeked her left eye open. It was still a little blurry, but better than it had been. The shock of the white from the tub made it sting. 

The real problem with leaving was that she had no way to get home. She couldn’t drive (Hank and Moira could attest to that). She certainly couldn’t ask for a ride after what happened- Fern doubted anyone would want to be in close quarters with her (Hank being the exception, but he had the good sense to wear gloves). She supposed she could hitch hike. Get to a safe place and call her mother...but there weren’t really any safe places for people like her. She got turned away even in places where she was known; too weird looking and too likely to cause a scene (well, have a scene caused over her), Fern wasn’t exactly welcome, just about anywhere, really.

Her fingers ghosted over her legs, over the rough scutes and squishy glands on her outer thighs. When there was no poison residue to be found, the young woman heaved herself out of the tub. As it drained, Fern was absently pleased she no longer had to worry about getting the sticky black ooze caught in her hair. 

Making her way out of the bathroom, she toweled off her scales. The young woman shuddered. The fluffy white material felt rough against her still sensitive glands and her new scales were still a bit raw from the heat of her bath. With heavy hands, Fern dressed herself in a pair of loose pajamas and sat on the bed as she continued to weigh her options.

At least, she began to when Sean interrupted her. A brisk knock and the door was open and the young woman bolted for the bathroom. Shutting and locking the door behind her, she flinched at his startled, “Fe?!”

Fern didn’t want him to see her like this. All shiny and broken. She didn’t want to face his disappointment, his anger; he had to have known what she did to Alex and the thought of Sean scolding her, of Sean being disgusted with her made the damaged membranes flicker over her eyes.

The young woman jerked back from the door as he banged on it.

“Fe! Open up! It’s me!”

Rolling her eyes, Fern hugged herself and leaned against the sink, fully intending to just let him tire himself out.

“Fern! Fern, come on, babe, it can’t be that bad, lemme in.” His knocking grew lighter, softer and she held herself tighter as Sean sighed. “Come on, it’s me. Let me in.”

Firm and tired, she told him, “Go away, Sean.”

“No! No, I’m not gonna just go away! Open this door, Fern!”

“I said go-”

An ear piercing shriek cut through the air as the door was blown off its hinges. 

Fern barely had time to flinch before Sean was stepping over the wreckage. His freckled features went from grim to shocked to contrite at the sight of her. Swallowing, he watched her new black skin swirl, not from shades of grey like he was accustomed to, but quick frantic swirls of iridescent light. Like the colors of an oil puddle. It was beautiful and it broke his heart a bit because it was all his fault. All of this way his fault. If he had just read the stupid bag, none of this would’ve happened; Alex would be fine, she’d be her normal grey self, but most importantly she wouldn’t looks so damn frightened of him.

“Oh, babe.”

“Don’t.” She bent a leg up threateningly between them. “Don’t touch me.” 

“Fe-”

“Don’t- don’t!” Fern winced as he ignored her, stepping into her space to take her by the arms. Her foot dug into his stomach but she couldn’t bring herself to kick him away. Her leg fell to the floor as he pressed against her. “Don’t.”

The young man flinched at the quiet mew. Her glands were spongy and from how she cringed no doubt sensitive and he quickly left them in favor of cupping her face. When she refused to meet his gaze, stubbornly keeping her face down, he licked his lips. “It was me.”

“What?”

“It was me. It was my fuck up, okay?!” Sean shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong!”

Incredulous, Fern snarled, “Didn’t do anything wrong?! I could’ve killed him!”

“But it wasn’t-”

“Yes it was! I thought I was getting the hang of it, but I’m not.” Shaking her head, she squirmed in his arms. “I can’t stay here like this, Sean, I can’t.”

He stared at her. Fern kept her head down, but he knew her well enough to read her body. Her toes digging into the tile, the way she dug her fingertips but not her nails into his shoulders as she tried to push him away. Not hard. Not out of anger but fear- she didn’t want to hurt him, hurt anyone more than she already had and for a moment, Sean was hopelessly in love with her. With her poison skin and sad eyes and soft heart. His nose brushed hers as he nodded. Voice soft and quiet, he offered her a crooked smile, “Yes, you can.”

Ignoring her scowl, he pressed his lips to hers. It was a delicate plea of a kiss that only lasted a second before he pulled back to rest his brow against hers. Fern’s blue eyes were wide, confused, but she didn’t resist as he began to stroke her cheek with his thumb.

“Don’t go, Fe.”

Skin spasming, Fern’s bottom lip quivered. His gaze was surprisingly somber and she could still feel his mouth; his breath warm and his skin soft and his nose grazing her cheek. It was disturbing, and she didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust him, or at least not his stupid timing. “I don’t need your pity.”

She had meant it to be fierce, for it to be mean and strong, but her words came out as a whimper. It made her feel weak and she could barely stand to meet his stare as he shook his head.

Sean’s thumb drifted from her cheek to her mouth. The corners were scarred from her sharp teeth, from where she had bitten them over the years, and he wanted to taste them again. “It’s not pity, Fern, you know it’s not.”

The girl frowned and dropped her gaze. 

“Stay. See this through.”

“I hurt Alex.”

“He’ll forgive you.”

The unease lingered on her sharp features. Unable to look at him, she murmured, “And what if he can’t?”

“He will.”

“But-”

Sean frowned. A sharpness she hadn’t heard before entered his voice as he cupped her shoulders, “Stop making excuses. If you want to learn control, stick around and work on it.” His eyes softened and he smiled. “You’ve been doing so well. What happened tonight wasn’t your fault. You got hurt and you reacted, just like I would’ve.” His expression grew serious once more. “You know how many people I’ve knocked out by accident?”

Fern rolled her eyes. “Knocking someone over-”’

“Full blown concussions, broken bones. I’ve hurt people too, Fe.”

She regarded him a bit more carefully. He seemed serious (a rarity for him) and she trusted his word immediately. “You never told me that.”

He lifted a gangly shoulder. “It’s been a long time. What happened was my fault. I should’ve been paying attention and I didn’t-”

“You keep saying that but-”

“No, Fe. I was the one who put the chlorine in the pool.”

“Oh.”

Sean flinched at the blankness in his...friend’s voice. “I thought...more would be better and I thought it’d be- I just got lazy, okay?! I thought if I dumped the whole bag-”

“It’s okay.”

“What?”

The young woman wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in his shoulder with a sigh. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.” She tightened her grip. Not quite as steady or as confident as she would’ve liked, Fern told him, “Thanks for not being scared of me.”

He kissed the top of her head. Arms tight around her, Sean sighed. She smelt like chlorine and Tide, and her short hair tickled his neck. “Never could be, babe.”

“Stop calling me babe.”

“Stop resisting our love.”

“Ugh.”

His fingers walked down the glossy black scales of her arm. “You’re so dark.”

Fern hummed, but said nothing. Just pressed closer to him with a smirk.

“It looks good.” He rested his cheek on top of her head and watched her skin move in a slow, easy swirl all over her body. “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“You should rest.”

“I can’t,” her voice broke as his fingers began to thread through her short hair. “Not until Alex is up.”

Sean frowned, but nodded. Giving her arm a rub, he nodded toward the door. “Wanna go check him out?”

Fern bit her lip before she nodded. When her partner went to follow, she put a hand on his chest. Sean glanced down at it, frowned and looked to her expectantly. The mutant woman shook her head at him. “This is something I have to do alone.”

“Oh. Alright.” He spun and sat on the bed. Sean offered her an encouraging smile. “I’ll wait here for you, okay?”

Without a word, she slipped out of the room. 

To her complete lack of surprise, Hank was still monitoring Alex. He glanced up as she entered, but merely adjusted his glasses. Mostly to make sure he was seeing her right- or rather seeing her at all. In the dim room, Fern’s new black skin was almost imperceptible. If it hadn’t been for her bright eyes and grey pajamas, he almost would’ve thought he was hearing things. Instead of commenting (no matter how desperately he wanted to), he merely waited for her to talk.

“Sorry I slammed the door in your face. And told you to fuck off.” Fingers digging into her sweats, she shook her head. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Hank pursed his lips. With a nod, he told her he understood, “but don’t think you can walk all over me just because Alex thinks he can.”

“I know I just...got kind of overwhelmed.”

“You didn’t-”

“No.” Fern rubbed the back of her neck. A bit awkwardly, she shifted on her feet. She could feel the trickle of her scales moving over her chest but ignored them as she always did. “If you wanted to get a snack or catch some sleep or something, I could keep an eye on him. I mean, if you wanted.”

After a few moments consideration, he pulled the gloves from his hands. “I could really use something to eat. You really wouldn’t mind?”

“No! No, not at all. I’d be happy to.” On his way out, she caught him by the arm. His brows rose in surprise, but she only offered him a sheepish smile. “Thanks. For helping me and Alex out…”

The taller man grinned. “Happy to help, Fern.”

Several hours later, in the wee hours of the morning just before dawn, Alex woke. His eyes fluttered, struggling to focus in the dim light. The first thing he noticed was the sharp pain in his hands. Struggling to close his fingers, he slowly lifted his head off the throw pillow under his neck.

“Hey.”

He jumped at the voice. Familiar, luminous blue eyes peered back at him from the dark, but Fern was otherwise invisible in the darkness. Wincing, he struggled to sit up on the desk. “What-”

“Want me to-”

“Don’t,” the blond huffed, shuffling on his side with a grunt. Pride a bit hurt, he didn’t want to come off as weak in front of a team mate. “I’ve got it.”

“Do you want me to get Hank? He said he’d have a sedative ready whenever you wanted it.”

“I’m fine,” Alex grit out through clenched teeth.

With a swallow, Fern held her knees a bit tighter to her chest. “How’re you feeling?”

Easing onto his back once more, he let out a long sigh and closed his eyes. “Like someone took a hammer to my hands. And head. And my fucking hands.”

The girl flinched. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I never meant for this to happen. I should’ve known better, I should’ve kept my distance.” She shook her head, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She wasn’t used to see Alex so...feeble. He was brash and arrogant and strong, and seeing him so pale and listless was a little heartbreaking. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”

His head rose from the small pillow under his neck. Surprise played across his exhausted features, but the girl didn’t look at him. Not dead on. Just out of the corner of her eye.

“The mansion, I mean. If you can’t feel safe with me around, I’ll go.”

“Seriously?”

Her gaze flickered to his and she nodded earnestly.

With a deep breath, Alex let his head fall back on the desk. His fingers rubbed the inside of his palm. They were tender. His whole body was tender and sensitive, like he had stuck a fork in an outlet. He thought of Darwin and how none of the others had ever brought up what he had done to him, brought up the part he had played in his death as unwitting as it was. He thought of playing pinball with him and how unafraid of him Darwin had been- and how unafraid of him Fern had been. Sharing milk with him in the morning and fighting with him and occasionally, annoying him. He didn’t want to lose that normalcy. He didn’t want to lose another team mate, another friend. 

Licking his chapped lips, he shook his head. “You can’t leave. You’re a danger to society.”

“I know,” Fern muttered. 

“So you should stay until you’re not anymore.” Fuck, now he was starting to sound like Charles, Alex thought vaguely as she chuckled.

“That’s what Sean said.”

“God, I must be real messed up if Sean’s making sense.”

The brunette clenched her sharp teeth at the slight, but didn’t tell him to shut up like she wanted. She had done enough to him without bruising his ego too, Fern reasoned. “He’s been asking to see you.”

“Has he seen you yet?”

A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah.”

“Guess you can’t say you’re not black now.”

Her fingers found her elbow. Stroking the fresh inky scales, she lifted a shoulder. The color was still foreign to her. It was jarring to such an integral part of her body change in only a few hours; from what had been a familiar flint grey to an inky black. It felt almost like it wasn’t hers anymore. Like it was a shirt she should be able to take off, but she knew the feeling would pass. She hoped the feeling would pass. “Hank says it’s just superficial. I should be as tough as I ever was...just a different color now.”

Alex frowned at the quiet resignation in her voice. “Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore.” They were a bit tender, but the searing pain had passed and she no longer felt inclined to claw her skin off, so yeah. Big improvement, she would say. “How about you? Honestly?”

The boy shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

“But does it hurt?” She pressed, already knowing the answer, but needing to hear it again, needing to ingrain it in her mind so she would never, ever forget what she had done.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“I’m sorry.”

He scoffed at the quiet regret in her tone. “Quit bein’ such a girl, Ailey.”

“I just- you were trying to do something nice for me and it’s not fair!”

“Fair?” The young convict echoed with a lifted brow and a hint of a sneer. “Fern, when they were doling out fair, they skipped us mutants entirely.”

She offered him a weak quirk of her lips, but stayed quiet.

Sighing, Alex rubbed a hand over his face and moved to sit up again. When he couldn’t quite make it, he held out an expectant arm to her. “I gotta take a leak. Mind helpin’ me to the washroom?”

The young brunette blinked with surprise, but stood immediately. “Really?”

“I’m not asking ya to hold it for me or anything, but the least you can do is help me get there.”

Nodding eagerly, she was at his side before the words were out of her mouth, “Right, sure, of course.”

As he swung his legs over the edge of the desk, his arm went around her shoulders. She braced him as he pointed a firm finger in her face. “You never tell anyone of this, got it, Frog Girl?”

Fern’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t make me drop you, Summers.”

His hand fell to his back as a sharp pain echoed through his spine. Hissing through his teeth, he stumbled, but her hands stayed firm around his waist. Despite this, Alex continued to run his mouth, “You can’t drop me, you’ve hurt me enough as it is. You owe me your silence.”

“I don’t owe you shit, if you don’t drop that tone.”  
“This is the tone of righteousness. You put me in a coma.” He kept his footsteps short but quick and was pleased she let him keep the pace. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep up with her usual long strides.

“Doesn’t mean you can be a dick about it.”

“Yes it does!”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes, it does, Fern, fuck- ow no!” He winced as she dropped him on the toilet. “Gentle!”

“Oh my god, why did I ever-”

“Alex?” Hank called.

“We’re in here!” The girl called.

“No!” Alex snapped in a harsh whisper. “Don’t say that! You promised.”

Slightly bewildered, she sneered at him, “No, I didn’t.”

“It was implied!”

Breezing out the door, she waved a dismissive hand as Hank slipped in beside her. “Should’ve thought’ve that before you ran your mouth.”

The blond glared after her as Hank offered to help him take off his pants.


	28. Promises, Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the always wonderful Linda Ku for betaing this!

It was damn near morning when Fern returned to her room. Unsurprisingly, Sean had once again invited himself into her bed. Torn between annoyed and grateful with the company, she approached him and sat on the very edge of the mattress.

He was hardly a first-rate specimen. Snoring obnoxiously on his back with a trail of drool marring his cheek (and her pillow), Sean was trying her patience and he wasn’t even doing anything...well, besides taking up too much room on her bed (uninvited) for the second night in a row.

“Attractive,” she drawled sarcastically under her breath. Fondness glinted in her eyes as she reached out. Fern’s fingers found his red bangs and smoothed them back.

Sean shuddered at the sensation of her setae, a smile crossing his mouth as he snuggled closer to her (damp) pillow.

Her mind drifted back to his hands on her face, his thumb nail catching between the scales on her cheek, his hips pressing into hers.

Skin shimmering with embarrassment, Fern rubbed her leg and flexed her toes in the plush carpet. Her gaze whipped away from him to focus on the lamp shining brightly on the nightstand. Fuck. She was turning into Raven; or worse, Hank. With a scowl, she stood and moved toward the bathroom. She wasn’t about to get caught mooning over some stupid boy. Limbs achy and glands sore, the girl made a mental note to ask Charles if she could take the carpet out. Assuming they made it through the fight with Shaw, anyway.

Her hand froze where it rested on the door, both at the thought and the sight before her. The tiled floor was spotless. He had cleaned up. Sean had cleaned up her skin, her blood, and didn’t seem the least bit disturbed.

Her expression softened as her hand fell. Turning on her heel, she moved back to the bed and stared at his lanky frame a long moment.

Sean wasn’t made for fighting. He was too nice and too skinny and too...important.

Grabbing a few pillows, she began to build a wall against the boy’s side.

Fern knew she and Sean didn’t have a typical friendship. She may not have had many, and the friends she did have were still new to her, but she knew the difference. Sean was easily the best friend she’d ever had, but things were different with him and not just because of how he treated her. How he had always treated her, but because of how he made her feel; normal, and safe, and wanted.

Any one of those feelings were rare for her, but when they were together, she never felt...defective. Never felt like anything other than what she was; not a freak, or a monster, just a typical young woman. It was nice. New and a bit strange, and well, nice.

A quirk of a smile touched her mouth at the quiet huff Sean let out. His back arched and his freckled features screwed up fitfully a moment, but relaxed as she thumbed his temple.

Fern supposed it had started that second day. When he looked past her scales and let her sit out. She hadn’t expected whatever that feeling was (this nice, scary, overwhelming feeling) to grow. She hadn’t expected to want him like she did, she just...wanted to be with him. Wanted to hear his stupid jokes and touch him and have him touch her back. To laugh and bicker and hug him in the kitchen when his mother didn’t know what she was talking about. Fern wanted to fight for him like she did for Josie and the idea of coming back to her bed one day to find it empty made her heart ache.

Carefully leaning over him to turn off the light, the young woman pressed a kiss to Sean’s cheek before settling down beside him. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached over the barrier to take his hand where it had been resting on his stomach. Thumbing his knuckles, Fern’s eyes fluttered.

She wouldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t ever let that happen.

It was a little after nine when Sean woke. The light streaming through the thin cotton curtains was nearly blinding. For a few moments, he simply took in the familiar scratch of Fern’s setae against his fingers and her quiet breathing. It was soft and warm against his shoulder. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know she had put up some kind of wall between them, he could feel it. Disappointed, the redhead sighed and slowly peeked his eyes open.

The room was just how he left it, with the exception of an extra person. Turning on his side, Sean let himself stare more openly at Fern’s new form. The sunlight shone off her cheek like it was a lake; bright glimmers of pure white light that made her hard to look at. Most of her new black skin was covered in white cotton, down to her wrists and ankles. A frown flickered across Sean’s mouth at the odd red speck that dotted her shirt.

Sitting up with a huff, he stretched his lanky arms out toward his feet before cracking his back. Sean let out a groan. His muscles were stiff from the previous day’s training and he knew, somehow, today’s was going to be worse. After a few seconds, he forced himself to stand.

After fixing the pillows away from Fern and covering her with a sheet, Sean closed the curtains and made his way down to the kitchen.

To his surprise, Hank and Charles were already there. The young redhead greeted them with a smile and a nod before he stuck his head in the fridge. “Mornin’, folks.”

Hank and Charles shared a small smirk before the latter spoke, “We were wondering when you’d be up.”

“Me?” Sean straightened up. Curious, he hesitated before he rose the bottle of milk to his lips. “Everythin’ went okay with my test results, right?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Hank nodded with a chuckle. “A clean bill of health all around.”

The redhead let out a sigh of relief and took a gulp.

Charles smirked and told him, “we were hoping you’d be willing to try flying today.”

“Really?!” Sean sputtered, choking and coughing behind his hand. His cheeks red and eyes bright, he looked between them as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Hank didn’t bother to try to suppress his grin. “If you’re interested, I have a prototype ready.”

“Hell yeah, I am! Lemme get changed! I gotta tell-”

“Sean.” The young man paused at the Professor’s voice. Blue eyes wide, he spun to face him as the older brunet pointed a stern finger at him. “Let her sleep.”

With a sympathetic, but not quite pleased, nod, Sean left the kitchen. He had intended on going straight up to his room, when he remembered Alex. A bit sheepishly, Sean shuffled into the lab.

Sitting behind the desk was the young man in question. His head was back, glaring at the ceiling, and he didn’t bother to look directly at the redhead when he asked how he was feeling.

“Like shit.”

Sean winced. “Oh.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he let out a sigh and moved to stand next to him. Hip against the desk and gaze low, he shook his head. “Look, man, don’t blame Fern, okay? She-”

“It was an accident, I know. We’ve already moved onto new things to fight about.” Things, which unlike nearly killing him, Alex would be holding a grudge over. Mostly because he’d been forced to let Hank help him, because buttons were no one’s friends when their hands were numb.

The taller man chuckled, not completely surprised by the news. “Good.” He sobered slightly as Alex sat up. At the slight pain in the blond’s expression as he moved, Sean frowned. “It was my fault, ya know.”

For a few seconds, his friend was quiet before he took a guess, “The chlorine thing?”

Sean nodded. Knowing that his last words to Alex would have been...less than kind, the young man swallowed. The guilt from their spat was almost worse than the guilt of actually causing the entire mess.

“You prick!” Alex gave him a shove that clearly hurt him more than Sean. Hissing through his teeth, he leaned back in the plush chair, his hand on his lower back.

“I’m sorry.”

The blond just frowned at him.

Unable to take the guilt, Sean asked, “Would watching me jump out of a window make you feel better?”

“...Maybe.” A smile twitched at Alex’s mouth.

At the sight of it, the gangly boy scowled. “Don’t get your hopes up! Hank says it’s gonna work.”

“And we’re believing him?”

“You wanna see me jump out the damn window or not, Summers?!”

“Yeah,” Alex nodded and stood. Clapping his friend on the shoulder, he gave the redhead a slight shake to let him know all was forgiven. “I really, really do.”

A more relieved smile came across the ginger man’s lips. “Good. Let me go get changed so we can get this show on the road.”

-Several hours later-

It had been a long day. A long, painful day of jumping out windows, ridicule, and far too much laughter at his expense, and Sean was ready to give in and eat his feelings. His feet dragged as he made his way down to the kitchen. Fingers tugging at the metal buckles, he cursed under his breath. If there was one upside to the bruises and headache and sore throat, at least Fern wouldn’t get to see him in the stupid suit.

The thought had barely passed through his head when he flicked the kitchen light on.

And there, of course, sat Fern. It was kind of hard to tell where her skin ended and her hair began, but there was no mistaking her large radiant blue eyes- even if they were half lidded with sleep.

Thrown by her seemingly sudden appearance (never mind that she had been there first) Sean shrieked, “Why were you in the dark?!”

“Why are you covered in grass stains?” She shot back, too tired to pretend to be anything but. Scooping another bite of salad in her mouth (straight from the leftover bowl, Sean noticed), the young woman regarded him. With her eyes fully healed and the bright lights overhead, she had no problem seeing him.

Frankly, he looked like hell. His hair was messy, his grey work out clothes matted with sweat and dirt and the previously mentioned stains. Beyond the series of small nicks and cuts, a bruise marred the left side of his jaw.

Fern pointed her fork at the latter. “What happened to your face?”

“What happened to yours?” The young man shot back with a scowl. At her frown, he sighed. Approaching the table on stiff, achy legs, Sean slid into the seat across from her. “I tried flying today.”

As he rubbed his face, her gaze fell to the metal buckle across his chest. “Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

“And I take it everyone was in on the show but me?”

“I was supposed to let you sleep.”

With a hum, Fern stabbed a piece of tomato and offered it to him. This was less an act of kindness and more one of practicality; she hated tomatoes.

Sean did too, but he appreciated what he thought was the sentiment and ate it anyway. As he fought back a grimace and chewed, he watched her pick through her salad. Fern’s movements were slow and her eyes half-lidded. With a swallow, he asked, “How’d you sleep?”

“I would’ve slept better if some moron hadn’t spent the whole day screaming outside my window.”

The redhead winced. “You heard that?"

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. The short locks still felt foreign to her. Pushing the bowl away, the young woman slumped slightly in her seat. “No. I’m just still tired.”

“Wanna go to bed with me?”

After starting to nod, Fern paused. Her eyes narrowed on the splotch of mud along his hairline. Staring at it, she asked, “You’re gonna shower first though, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Than sure, why not?” Standing, the young mutant slipped out of her seat and over to his. Sean stared at her, watching her skin flicker in that strange new oil slick pattern over her chest as her hand touched the metal buckle wrapped around his torso. The colors shifted as she met his gaze, flowing over her entire body like a wave. She smiled. Her fingers drifted from his chest to his neck as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. At the heat of his blush, the girl let her lips drifted across his skin to brush the corner of his mouth. “Sean?”

His eyes fluttered at the whisper. “Mhm?”

“You really need a bath.”

Cackling, Fern shoved his face away from her and made her way upstairs. As she ascended toward her room, her expression sobered. Sean had been wearing metal buckles. Hackles high, she stalked toward Erik’s room. Jaw clenched and scales shimmering, she gave the door a boot. When the noise went ignored, Fern kicked it again, and again, and once more for good measure before snapping.

“Open the fucking door, Lensherr!”

Eyebrows high, Erik obeyed. His eyes widened at the sight of her, at her new inky skin and bared teeth, but he composed himself quickly. “Evening, Fern.”

Hackles high, she grit out, “Why didn’t you catch him?”

“Who?”

“Sean!” The brunette growled as her sharp nails dug into her palms. “Why didn’t you levitate his harness before he hit the ground?”

A wide smile cracked over the man’s lips. It made her stomach turn, and the jovial, nonchalant lilt in his voice almost made the young woman flinch. Sneering, he leaned an arm above her head against the door frame. “To remind him of his failure, to give him a reason to try harder...and frankly, because it’s funny."

Fern didn’t share his mirth. Disturbed by how casually he leaned into her personal space, she leaned back on her leg. Teeth bared once more, she sneered, “He could hurt himself, and when he does, I’m putting it on you.”

“My, my.” Erik crossed his arms over his chest. Chuckling at her (less than intimidating) threats, he teased, “Does your precious little idiot know your out fighting his battles?”

“You’re a sick man, Erik.” The young woman stepped back, putting some space between them as she shook her head. “And it worries me that Charles has so much faith in you.”

“Likewise.” At her flinch, the man pressed, “Tell me, how does it feel being a hypocrite, Fern?”

Voice soft, she dropped her gaze as her scales twisted with shame. “I’m not a hypocrite.”

“Really? You question the use of my powers when you don’t even have the slightest control over yours.”

Not quite steady on her feet, her skin blazed as she shrieked, “I have control!”

“Really?” He smirked. “Tell that to Alex.”

The door closed in her face. Fern stared at it for a beat before she turned and stomped up to her room. She didn’t even notice Sean on the staircase below.

The young man waited for her to be out of earshot before slowly easing into the hall. Frowning, he considered confronting the man, telling him off and maybe knocking him out a window, but decided against it. Fern could fight her own battles. She wouldn’t want him interfering. A snort left him at the irony, but he merely kept on his way. A shower was waiting for him, and he wasn’t about to leave his lady love waiting.

Not twenty minutes later, Sean appeared before said lady.

“There, now I’m all clean and fresh and ready for-” He faltered in the doorway. Pointing a finger at her, he snapped, “What the hell are those?”

“What?” Fern didn’t look up from her book. Her attempt at nonchalance was...not very nonchalant. Her skin rolled and swirled as she pursed her lips.

“Your gloves…” Sean shut the door behind him. “What’s with the gloves?"

The young woman faltered as he took a knee on the bed. “I just thought-”

“You thought wrong,” his tone was gentle and so were his fingers as he tugged the leather off her hands. After dropping them on the nightstand, he slid the book from her fingers and tossed it carelessly over his shoulder. She arched a brow as Sean purred, “Wanna fool around?”

A harsh laugh was knocked from her chest; half at his attempt at bedroom eyes and half from shock.

“Come on,” the young man leaned forward. “Kiss me.”

Fern stiffened, recalling Erik using the same posture only minutes before. She squirmed onto her side. “No.”

Mistaking her agitation for coyness, the redhead chuckled and pressed his mouth to her shoulder, her neck. “Don’t fight it, babe, it’s- ow ow ow!”

Unable to stand being expected to perform, Fern scowled and twisted his nipple harder. “Don’t get fresh with me, Cassidy.” She let him go with a shove that almost knocked him off the bed. “Just because I like you doesn’t mean you have a monopoly on my body.”

Rubbing his tender chest, Sean frowned. He watched her pull a pillow to her chest, her long limbs coiled around it like a boa, as her skin shimmered with something he couldn’t place. “I know.”

“Hm.”

“I was just teasing, Fe. You know I’d never expect anything for you.”

Some of her doubt ebbed away as he touched her arm. His features were flushed, but sincere and open and the hopeful “really?” slipped from her lips before she could stop it.

“Honest.” A bit cautiously, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. He felt her scales shift under his mouth, but didn’t linger. Pulling back, Sean watched her a moment, but couldn’t read her expression. He hated that. Lips pursed, the young man eased closer to her. “He’s wrong, ya know.”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“Erik.”

Fern’s skin shifted- quick, harsh spasms around her chest and face as she held the pillow with clawed fingers.

Sean watched her scales shiver with sad eyes, but kept his voice firm, “You’re nothing like him.”

“I could be.” The young woman sat up, her back pressed tight to the headboard as she went on with a hint of hysteria, “We’re not that different!”

Ever the epitome of calm, the redhead shook his head. “Yes, you are.”

“No, Sean, we’re not! We’re both paranoid freaks who can’t-” She paused as he touched the back of her hand. With a deep breath, Fern tried to calm herself. She didn’t want to get worked up, she didn’t want to have another accident, not with Sean. Swallowing, the young woman sighed. “I don’t want to end up like him.”

“You won’t,” he promised. His fingers tipped her chin up. “I won’t let you.”

Her eyes sparkled and a smile pulled at her lips at his earnestness. Looking up at him, she fought her grin down to a simper and asked, “What did I just say?”

Sean jerked back, shielding his nipples with his arms. His freckled arms were a stark contrast to his white t-shirt. “Don’t you dare give me another purple nurple!”

“Another what?”

Blue eyes narrow, Sean crawled into the bed. Settling back against the headboard beside her, the redhead considered putting his hand on her leg, but thought better of it. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what they are. You’d kick my ass if I tried yankin’ on your tit like that.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, probably.”

“Come on,” the boy whined, “be nice to me. I’ve had a long day.”

Rolling her eyes with a false sense of annoyance, Fern wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Ugh. Fine.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Of course, I just…” Her scales twirled with embarrassment. “It caught me off guard. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” His lips brushed against hers. “You ever feel uncomfortable, we’ll stop, okay?”

Her features darkened, but only slightly, as Sean brushed his nose against her own. “So you don’t end up like Alex?”

“So you don’t end up like Erik.” At her frown, the young man sat up straighter. His fingers tipped her jaw toward him, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I don’t wanna see you get jaded like him because of what people have done to you. I don’t ever wanna be one of the people that’ve hurt you, Fe.”

Her eyes met his. Sean seemed serious, somber even, despite the fond smile he offered as she touched his mouth. His soft, raspy voice was a stark reminder of how fucking in love with him she was, and not wanting to deal with that, she let her hand drift. Fingers winding through his damp hair, she yanked him into a kiss.

Sean moaned as his mouth hit hers. Without a moment’s hesitance, he slid into her arms. His hand ran up her thigh; he could feel every bump and ridge of her glands and scutes through the thin material of her pajama pants, but all he could focus on was the bold, shameless broach of her tongue against his own.

Proud of his response, of how his fingers dug into the pillow next to her and his hips shifted so restlessly, Fern let a small smirk stretch across her lips. She could feel his blush, warm and bright against his pale skin, and couldn’t resist touching it.

A shudder coursed down his spine at the sensation of her saete stroking his neck. Arching into her touch, Sean blinked at her hoarse chuckle. A crooked grin crossed his lips at the sight of her smile. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh yeah?” He kissed her once, twice, before giving her thigh a squeeze. “You sure about that?”

The nod she gave him was quick and teasing, but her lips stayed pursed in an attempt to fight a grin of her own.

“Well, that’s something we’ll have to work on,” Sean replied as he moved to crawl over her, to blanket her form with his and feel her scales shift under his touch- assuming of course, she let him strip her out of her sweatshirt.

She just might have, had the young man not winced. Alarm shot through her and she quickly sat up. “What’s wrong?!”

“Nothing-” At her obvious doubt, Sean sighed. “It was just a twinge.”

“Where?”

“My side- hey!” He blushed as she pulled his baggy white t-shirt up. At her gasp, the redhead huffed. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Really? ‘Cause it looks pretty bad.” Fern’s big blue eyes narrowed on the patchwork mess of purple and green that was Sean’s stomach. Her clawed fingertips brushed over them as she tutted sympathetically. As someone intimately familiar with bruises, she knew how much of a pain they could be.

His shrug did little to ease her worry. “I just put a bit too much weight on one of my bruises.”

“What weight?!” Fern snickered. “You’re like 90 pounds!”

Offended, he jerked his shirt down. “I’m 158!”

“Seriously?” Her nearly invisible brows rose. “That is so sad.”

“Hey!”

“Lay down, Sean.”

He frowned. “But we were gonna-”

“No we weren’t.”

“What, not even hand stuff?”

She tilted her head. “What kind of hand stuff?” At his impish smile, the brunette quickly cut him off. “Save it for when you’re healed up.”

Huffing with disappointment, Sean shimmied down to rest his head on her breast. Arms looping around her lithe body, he sighed. “Play with my hair and tell me you love me.”

Fern considered a few moments. He smelt like Dial soap. Carding her fingers through his hair, she absently checked for any bumps he might have acquired testing his new (incredibly stressful), before she told him, “I love your hair.”

“Close enough.” Unsurprised, but not thrilled, Sean pulled her closer. Her scales zigzaged under his cheek, shifting from cool to warm and back again. The setae of her fingertips was soothing and stimulating at the same time. Lips quirked, he nestled closer to her and closed his eyes.

As he drifted off to sleep, the young woman smiled to herself. Peering down at him, she could only see the top of his head, but she recognized the easy slow pattern of his breathing and let her head fall back to rest against the headboard. His words drifted through her head; how Sean wouldn’t let her end up like Eric. His words were nice, but not exactly reassuring, because no matter how he denied it, she could absolutely see it. She and Eric already had so much in common; the same paranoia, the same fear, the same world views, the unrelenting rage just under the surface, and Fern knew if she let it, it would control her, too. Worse, Fern knew it wasn’t a matter of if, but when.

Kissing the top of Sean’s head, she ran her fingers down his pale arm before she began the monumental task of trying to wiggle down the mattress. The redhead let out a grunt, but let himself be shifted.

The moment her head hit the pillow, Sean threw his arm over Fern’s chest. Ignoring her scoff, he placed a peck to her cheek and nuzzled into her neck. Her scales faintly scratching his skin, the young man ran his fingers down her arm and wove them with her own.

“Night, babe."

“I thought you weren’t gonna call me baby.”

“Babe ain’t baby, babe.”

Rolling her eyes, Fern looped her arm around him and absently stroked his spine. “Go to sleep, Sean.”

With a smirk on his lips, he did, and she soon followed suit.


	29. Privacy is Overrated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to Linda Ku, my amazing beta who always puts so much amazing work into this fic!

"Sean," Fern murmured into his neck, "Make him go away."

The redhead sighed. Completely and utterly relaxed, he shifted a deeper into the woman's arms. Nuzzling his chin against the top of her head, he didn't bother to open his eyes. He didn't need to; the sun was shining bright enough through the thin curtains to tell him it was morning. "Who?"

"Charles."

"I'm not going away," Charles snapped. Huffy and indignant, he crossed his arms. "I'm literally at the foot of your bed. Now get up, we have training."

Ignoring him, Fern clung tighter to Sean. One of the long legs that had been resting over his moved up to hook around his waist. Boneless, the redhead let her drag him deeper into her embrace with only a quiet, audibly pleased, hum.

Charles didn't seem to like that. Gaze sharp and lips pursed, he put his hands on his hips. "Fern, do not make me get the broom."

The girl bolted up. Ignoring Sean's whine as his head bounced from her shoulder to the mattress, she demanded, "Who told you?!"

"I called your mother." Smug, the Professor squared his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back. "Josie may have given me some pointers on handling you."

Fern's scales shimmered with rage as she bared her teeth. Handling her. Handling her?! He had fucking promised he wouldn't invade her privacy, and at the first chance he got, he called her mother?! Who the fuck did he think he was?! "You're fucking dead, Xavier."

"Now, now, Ms. Ailey, there's no need for profanity."

Still scowling, she ripped the pillow Sean had replaced her with from the redhead's arms and smacked the Professor with it. Once again completely indifferent to Sean's annoyance, she got on her knees and began to wail on their mentor. "We're! Not! Friends! Any! More!"

With a tiny shriek, Charles grabbed the corner of her makeshift weapon. Or at least tried to. His nose wrinkled as he tried to pry it from her grasp. "Now, now-"

"Stop saying that!"

"Guys, come on." Sean sat up. Latching onto the back of his bedmate's jockeys, he tugged her into his arms. As the grey skinned girl struggled and squirmed, he closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to her shoulder. Her swirling scales scraped at his skin. Ignoring them, he kiss the back of her neck. "Let's go back to bed."

Finally able to yank it away from the slim brunette, Charles heaved the pillow above his head and slammed it down on both of theirs. "No! No more sleeping! I expect you both down for breakfast in ten minutes." He tossed the pillow to the ground. After he calmly righted his navy suit vest, fixed his shirt cuffs, and smoothed his hair back, the Professor told them, "Don't make me come back up here."

Fern glared after him as he sauntered out of the room. Behind her, Sean sighed and fell back onto the mattress. For a moment, he was quiet, before a tiny giggle left him. The young woman glared over her shoulder at him.

Smile wide and eyes closed, he teased, "You got in trouble."

"Shut up, Sean."

"Hey, don't get mad at me 'cause you're mad at him, babe." Lanky freckled arms stretched over his head as his back arched. When it cracked, a pleased groan left his throat. "It's too early to be mad."

Disappointed, Fern huffed and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I can't believe he called my ma."

"Well...you were in a coma," the redhead reminded her with a hint of casual concern as his fingers found the small of her back.

"So?!"

Leaning up on his elbow, Sean nosed at the thin cotton that rested between her shoulder blades. At her sigh, he looped an arm around her waist and gave the outside of her thigh a rub. Enjoying the swells and valleys of her scutes and glands, he kissed her neck again. "He was probably just worried about you. We all were."

Agitated, more at the situation than at him, Fern rolled her shoulders. When Sean backed off, she was quick to pull him back into place. With him more or less splayed out in her lap, she tried to mimic his affections by rubbing his chest; not totally unlike how she might pet Bruno. Sean didn't seem to mind, canting his hips up to get comfortable and sliding a hand around her waist to brace her lower back as she replied, "It was just a little coma. It wasn't even a twenty four hour coma."

The redhead opened his mouth, but from somewhere outside the door, a decidedly British voice shouted, "Seven minutes!" before he could say a word.

The couple glared in the voice's general direction, but complied. Neither of them paid each other any mind as they went about their morning routine. Yawning, Sean followed her into the bathroom and quickly made his way to the toilet.

Fern pursed her lips as he lifted her toilet seat, but only rolled her eyes back to the mirror. That boy has too many siblings, she thought absently, before she began to wash her face.

"What do you think they're gonna make us do today?"

"Seriously, Cassidy?"

"What?" He glanced her way. At her chuckle, he smirked. "You've seen my dick before."

"Yeah, but not like-" A scoff left her before she ordered, "just stop talking."

"Why?"

"Because it's weird!"

He shrugged and finished up. Flushing, he kissed her cheek and reached for her tooth brush. "It's only weird if you make it weird."

Her large eyes narrowed on him, but her skin shone with mirth. "I hate you."

"Not even a little bit."

She frowned as he all too casually applied a liberal amount of toothpaste and stuck the brush under the facet. "You could at least wash your hands."

Obediently, he stuck the brush in his mouth, stuck his hands under the water, and dried them on his white tee-shirt.

Fern just stared at him.

"What?" He asked around a mouth full of suds.

Sighing, the young woman wet her hair down and tried to mold it into something more manageable. It was a futile process. The short strands were thick and unruly, but still, with Sean's bedhead, at least she wouldn't be the only one unpresentable. Tugging the toothbrush from his mouth, she stuck it into her own. Reasoning that she already had his tongue in her mouth, she set about brushing her teeth.

He beamed and spit into the sink. "Can I use some of your deodorant?"

"I don't wear any."

"What?" He asked, glancing away from her medicine cabinet. When she shrugged, he blinked. "Really?"

She shrugged but didn't stop scrubbing the plaque from her sharp pearly whites. "No sweat glands, no body odor, babe."

"Seriously?" At her nod, the redhead pouted. "Lucky."

Fern chuckled and spit. Rinsing out her mouth with some water, she spit once more and jerked her head to the door. "I know you ain't much on privacy, Cassidy, but I gotta take a leak."

"So?"

"So go put on some deodorant and let me pee in private." She paused before adding, "Like a lady."

"Ugh, fine." Reluctantly, Sean threw his head back, whined, and dragged himself out of the room.

The girl scoffed at his dramatics, but couldn't keep the smile from her mouth.

After finishing her business, the young woman dressed and went to her bedmate's door. Not bothering to knock, Fern opened the door and scowled at the sight of the redhead. Fully dressed in casual sweats and sneakers and sleeping soundly on top of his bed.

"No."

He gurgled and rolled onto his stomach.

"No," She repeated, louder this time. "If I have to be up, so do you, Cassidy."

When he ignored her, Fern took that as an invitation to flop down onto the bed beside him. Huffing, the skinny redhead covered his head with his hands as she began to prod at him with sharp fingertips. Shimmying away from them, he griped, "You're worse than Charles."

"How dare you."

When he continued to ignore her, she decided it was time to use the method her mother had perfected over the years and gave him a stern slap on the ass.

"Fe!" Sean yelped, jumping back to look at her with wide eyes.

Voice booming and stern, she ordered, "Up and at 'em, Cassidy!"

He gaped as she popped off the bed. As she strolled casually out the door, his shriek followed after her. "You can't just do that and leave!"

Her head poked back into the room. Grinning, her scales shimmered. "Yes, I can." The girl nodded toward the hall. "Come on. Let's get this done so you can tell me what hand stuff is."

Sean couldn't hurry after her fast enough after that.

The first thing Fern did when she entered the kitchen was greet Charles was a blunt, "I hate you."

"Me?!" The Professor gasped at her as she snatched the papers from his hands. "What did I ever do to you?"

"Really?" Sean asked dully, not pausing as he moved toward the refrigerator. Popping it open, he stuck his head inside. His blue eyes flickered over various vegetables and leftovers before landing on a container of orange juice. "I can think of at least five things you've done to me in the past fifteen minutes."

Hank shook his head. Puzzled, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Gaze shooting between the visibly disgruntled couple, the young doctor frowned. "The Professor's been helping me go over my semantics for the Black Bird for the past hour."

Head cocked, realization dawned on Fern's black skin as it stilled, then spasmed in an array of color. Standing, she slammed the stolen papers down on the table. The dinnerware clattered as she growled out, "I'm gonna wreck her."

"Fe, babe, calm down." Sean slipped his hands over her shoulders and pushed her gently back onto her stool. "Kill her later. Breakfast now, murder later, okay? Okay."

"Don't just say okay-"

He tipped her chin up, kissed her soundly on the mouth, and nodded in a manner he thought made him appear sage, but really just made him look condescending.

Her large blue eyes narrowed on him, but she appreciated the affection, and frankly the sentiment. She was still hungry from the night before and without a word, Fern waved his hands away and reached over to steal Hank's forgotten plate of eggs and fruit. She did this while completely ignoring how the two men across the table stared, slack jawed by the casual intimacy they had just witnessed.

Hank's mouth opened and closed a moment before he demanded, "When did you two...?"

They ignored him.

After a long moment, Charles held up a finger. He pointed it sternly at the girl. "Do not get pregnant. I will not send you back to your mother pregnant."

"Don't tell me what to do, Chuck."

"Don't call me Chuck." The man bristled. His finger fell. "I didn't go to school for upwards of ten years to be called Chuck."

"Don't infringe on my rights, Professor." She took the cup of orange juice Sean set between them and took a sip. He shot her a wink and slipped a piece of cantaloup off her (Hank's) plate. Dismissing this, Fern asked, "Did Raven really call her or did you just tell her about the broom thing?"

"Hm." The Professor smirked as he watched Sean squeeze her knee under the table. "I plead the fifth."

"Sounds like an admittance of guilt to me."

Charles chuckled and shook his head at her caprice. "You'd make a wonderful lawyer."

Instead of verbally responding, the girl shrugged and began to shovel Hank's discarded, cold eggs into her mouth.

"Okay, but when-" Hank started once more, only to be interrupted by Alex's casual entrance and greeting of, "What's up, nerds?"

Irritation played on the bespectacled man's face, but he said nothing as the convict slid into the seat beside him. Jaw clenched and head back, Hank said nothing as the redhead greeted him brightly.

"You're up!"

The blond nodded. "Yeah, no shit."

Undeterred by his friend's casual vulgarity (unlike Hank, who's scowl deepened), Sean continued to beam. "How're you feeling?"

A limp shrug was his answer. Grabbing an apple from the bowl between them, Alex turned to Hank. "So, when do we get to check out these suits of yours?"

Hank clenched his jaw briefly, before telling him, "I was just going to ask Fern if she'd like to have another fitting, actually."

"Why does she get to go first?"

"Because I like her better than you," Hank replied primly. He stood, gathered his semantics, and nodded to Fern. "Whenever you're ready, I'll be in the lab."

She offered him a feeble smile. Her clawed fingers tugged idly at the cuff of her grey shirt. Beside her, Sean eyed her subtly. Her skin was an array of color over her cheeks and neck. He sipped at their orange juice, but said nothing. Just slipped a hand over hers to stop her fidgeting as Alex spoke.

"That ain't fair." The young man pursed his lips. "I wanna see my fancy get up."

"Why Alex," Sean teased, squeezing his bedmate's fingers under the table as she laced them together. "I had no idea you were such a fashionista."

He scoffed. "Yeah. I'm a real diva."

Fern forced another smile, but couldn't keep looking at him. She was glad to see he was okay, glad to see he didn't hate her for leaving him stranded on the toilet, but it was still hard for her; looking at her lack of control in the face. Swallowing, she offered the boys a quiet excuse and left the kitchen.

"What's her problem?"

Charles offered a shrug. "I think she's still a bit sensitive about the...ordeal."

"What? You mean the coma thing?"

"Yes, Alex." The man rolled his eyes. "The coma thing."

"What? What?! I was in a coma! Hank said she was, too! That makes it a thing!" Alex scowled as his friend laughed. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Me and Fern are cool. We're already over it."

"Maybe you are," Charles amended, "But guilt is a complicated emotion. One moment she may be, uh, over it, the next she may not be."

"So, what? She's just gonna avoid me forever?"

"Doubtful. But some space might be appreciated."

Alex considered for a beat, then pushed his chair back. "Fuck that. I wanna see her suit."

"Me, too," Sean agreed. His gangly legs got caught in the legs of his seat, but he managed to shake them away without tripping. Grabbing his glass, he followed after the blond.

"Well…" Xavier huffed. "Why don't I just sit here and talk to myself, then?"

Upstairs, Fern was beaming. The suit Hank had presented her with was a vast improvement over the last and she held it out in front of her with pride. Her bright eyes drifted over the zippered sleeves and the removable panels on the legs and she felt her heart swell. Sure, it wasn't the prettiest thing, what with the yellow piping along the chest and stomach, that clashed terribly with the overall navy material, but it was beautiful (at least in a symbolic way).

He had listened to her, taken her advice, and seemed ready to take more, given his curious, but not anxious, "Better?"

The girl nodded and hugged the suit to her chest. As she checked to make sure the panelling matched up with the glands along the outside of her arms. "Much." Her gaze returned to his as her skin shimmered with delight. "Thanks, Hank."

A grin of his own stretched across his mouth. Pleased, he nodded and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Would you mind trying it on? I'm a bit worried about the fit, given the, uh, inconsistencies we had in the chest area last time."

"Sure." Throwing it over her shoulder, the girl turned on her heel and sauntered into the closet.

With a blink, Hank followed her. As he waited outside the door, he smirked. "You know, you could've gone into the bathroom. You don't have to change in there?"

"It's closer."

"Yeah, but isn't it, I don't know, cramped?"

Fern looked around the tiny closet. She had slept in places smaller than this when she was little, hiding from the nice, but overprotective, nuns at the Convent or locked in toy chests at the orphanage by people who were...less nice. Shrugging off her moment of morbid nostalgia, she slid her grey sweats off. "It's not as small as it looks. I mean, you probably couldn't change in here, but I'm okay."

"Why can't I change in there?"

"Well, for starters because I'm in here now, and I don't need to see that." She had seen enough penis in the last hour to last her at least until she and Sean could be alone again. "And two, well, you're like...what? 6'2"?"

"About."

The suit squeezed tightly across her chest and with a huff, the young woman squirmed in an attempt to tug it back. Clawed fingers buried in the slippery spandex, she began to yank. Her elbow smacked off one of the shelves behind her. Growling, she bared her teeth at the offending object a moment before calming herself (and mellowing her tone), "Then you've got arms proportionate to a 6'2" frame."

Outside, Hank nodded and arched an eyebrow as Alex slid into the room. "Can I help you?"

"I wanna see my gear." Alex's gaze flickered around the room. "What'd you do with Fern?"

The taller man ignored the question. "I'm not done them yet."

"You're done Fern's," The words were barely out of his mouth before Sean came sauntering in behind him.

Hank glared at the glass of orange juice in his hand. "No food in the lab."

"It's not food," the redhead replied, tapping the side of the glass with his index finger before taking a sip. "It's a beverage."

The door opened behind him and the trio turned to look at the young woman. Fern frowned at the sight of them. Or more accurately, at the wide smile on Sean's face.

Without missing a beat, he lifted the glass to his lips once more and ordered, "Give us a spin, babe."

"Get out!"

"What?" Sean laughed as she scowled, her scales twisting in embarrassment. "I'll show you mine!"

Hackles high, she snapped, "I don't want to see yours!"

"Yes, you do."

Okay, she totally did, but he didn't have to be such a cocky bastard about it. "I don't need to see it. I already saw your wings."

"Hey, yeah," Alex cut in. His furrowed brow suggested annoyance, but his crossed arms and dropped hip screamed pouting. "Why does Sean get wings? I mean, why did he get his wings before I got my thing?"

Hank pursed his lips as Sean set his glass down on his desk. Without so much as a cursory glance at the young doctor, he slipped over to Fern. Hank rolled his eyes at their mooning. "Because it's easier to work a sewing machine than a soldering gun."

The redhead tugged at the zippered panels along her thighs. Scowling, Fern smacked his hands away.

"You had time to make two suits-"

"Four, actually." Hank smiled smugly. "I finished Moira and Raven's this morning."

"Stop that," the girl hissed as pale fingers lifted to fiddle with the collar of her suit.

His nose brushed hers. "Kiss me."

"I'll kill you," She warned, blue eyes sparkling with frustration and skin with mirth. "And I'll bury you in this suit."

Willfully ignoring the couple not a yard away from them, Alex snapped, "You've made four suits?! Four?! What about me?!"

"Well, considering you were in a coma, you weren't exactly high on my priorities." Hank's eyes narrowed even further at Alex's scoff. "You know, because I was keeping you alive."

"So was she!" The blond pointed an accusing finger at the black scaled girl who was trying so futily to keep Sean from unzipping one of the panels on her leg.

"I already had hers done."

"They just come right off!" The redhead tilted his head, but when he noticed her puckered expression, he quickly zipped it back up. Instead of fiddling with it, like he so desperately wanted to, Sean rose a hand to tug at the bottom of her sleeve.

At his change of location, Fern beamed and straightened her arm to show it off. "Yeah, I know! Pretty neat, huh?"

"I want a sexy suit." His head rolled over to Hank. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip to contain his grin. "Hank, why isn't my suit this sexy?"

Slightly hysterical, Alex turned on him. "At least you have a suit!"

Glaring at the shorter man, Hank licked his teeth before letting out a sigh. "I'll try to get to it today after Sean's session."

"Session?" The couple repeated; the woman dubiously, the man with excitement.

"Yes, I believe Charles wants you to try flying again."

"No way in hell."

Sean glared at the young woman beside him. "He was asking me."

"Doesn't matter." Fern crossed her arms. "He got his answer. A no's a no, Cassidy."

He rolled his eyes. The Ailey girl could puff up all she wanted, but he recognized the swirl of concern in her skin. Sliding his hand over her back, he offered her shoulder a squeeze. "I'll be fine."

"I know you will," She said. "Because you'll be on the ground. Right, Hank?"

When her sharp, stern gaze turned to the doctor, Hank visibly faltered. "Uh-"

"He shouldn't be flying so soon after falling, right?"

"Well-"

Alex slowly backed out of the room.

"I mean, look at this!" Fern yanked her bed mate's shirt up. An accusing finger pointing at the yellow bruises that were scattered on lily white skin, she ignored Sean's indignant, "Fe!" and how he twisted away from her. Confused by his blush, and how firmly he was keeping his sweatshirt pulled down. Fern snapped, "What? You're hurt. Stay on the ground."

"I don't go around lifting your shirt up!"

"Yeah, because I'd maim you."

"Hm." Hank raised his fingers to his lips. "She's not wrong."

The girl beamed as Sean's shoulders slumped.

"I'll have to examine you before we go out." The taller man offered them a limp smile and turned back to his desk.

The redhead scowled at her. "Thanks a lot, Fern."

Ignoring his tone, she slid a hand up his chest to cup his jaw. She planted a firm kiss on his cheek as he caressed her waist. It was really very disturbing how easily affection was beginning to come to her. With a nod, she smirked. "You're welcome."

A hum slipped from his throat as she nuzzled against his cheek. It warmed under the affection. "I'm still mad."

"Be mad," She pulled back to sidestep him. "Just be mad on the ground. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna get dressed."

"Aw."

"Sorry, skinny," Fern winked at him from the closet doorway. "My foot's got a date with Raven's ass."

Hank frowned as she disappeared from sight. "She didn't even let me check the new measurements."

"She can move okay, but it's a bit tight in the chest." When McCoy shot him an unimpressed look, he shrugged. "I know how she moves, okay? And her boobs were flat."

The young doctor dropped his voice slightly, "Fern's flat-chested."

"Slander and lies." He crossed his arms. Shooting a glance at the door, he lowered his voice, "She just binds her chest sometimes."

"I know."

Sean frowned, before realization dawned on him and he nodded. "Right. Well, I'll get the right measurements for you."

"I still have the originals Raven gave me." Hank shrugged. His hands slipped into the pockets of his white lab coat. "I'll make the adjustments."

The redhead offered him a tight smile.

"Ready to try flying again?"

Anxiety made Sean's shoulders twitch. "Of course."

"Really?"

"What?"

"Nothing, you just seem a little...nervous."

"I ain't scared!"

"I didn't say scared." Hank smiled, clearly enjoying taunting the younger man. "I said nervous."

"You said it'd work!"

"It would've if you had screamed like I told you to." His gaze flickered behind him as Fern opened the door.

She offered him a wink and held up her suit. After giving him a thumb's up of approval and setting it carefully on desk, she slipped out of the room, leaving her bedmate none the wiser.

"Scream harder isn't exactly constructive criticism, McCoy!"

Outside the lab, Fern snickered. Her bare feet soundless on the hardwood floor, she made her way downstairs to the workout room.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to give my lovely beta, Linda Ku, a shout out! She's been an amazing help. ^.^


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